I'm Begging For Mercy Part Two
by Momma-Ran
Summary: Craig and Tweek meet by chance and quickly bond over bruises. But one day Tweek doesn't come to school. And Craig's world shatters. Then he meets someone else, someone he never suspected he would ever get with. Someone he forgot existed.
1. Less Than Three Per Room

Its about ten o clock when I sneak into my bedroom through the window with the smell of sex on my skin and weed on my clothes. Frankly, I feel amazing and its not entirely because I'm high. Tweek and I have been dating for almost a year. Its been the best time of my life. And in a way the worst. The sweet blonde has been full of unexpected surprises.

Like his mom trying to kill him every other day. Then there's his drug addiction and the fact that the delicious weed I just smoked was traded for sex. No, he hasn't told me that last one but I know because I've come to know what his _guilty_ body language looks like. That and he has no job so how the Hell else would he be getting it? It pisses me off but I'm baked so its not too bad. Peeling my clothes off my body – sticky with sweat – the sex smell gets stronger.

I should have taken a shower before I left. Before I can quickly get to the bathroom, my door opens. I freeze and my body braces itself for the yelling and hard fists that are sure to come. Instead I see the small outline of my sister. "Dad isn't home." She whispers.

"Business meeting until tomorrow night." I visibly relax. Ruby comes into my room without asking and completely disregarding the fact that I'm naked. "You're high." Its not a question. She knows I smoke weed and doesn't care.

I wonder if she smokes too but I've never caught the scent on her. She's a good girl; better than her stupid older brother, abusive alcoholic father, and shut in mother. Speaking of mother, I'm about to ask her where ours is when Ruby sniffs and wrinkles her nose. Oh please don't say anything. "And you smell like -" Now I have to cut her off.

"Hey!" My little sister doesn't need to know what sex smells like. I don't want to think about her being sexually active ever. As far as I'm concerned she can be a sexless creature the rest of my life. Ruby gives me a small knowing smile that disturbs me. I try not to think about it.

"How was he?" I'm not sure if she's talking about Tweek's health or his performance in bed. The later being amazing. I think about Tweek and frown. There's a lot wrong with him. Sometimes it gets to be overwhelming.

My boyfriend can barely use the hand his mother broke. Its not disfigured or anything, but something on the inside is just unable to be fixed. I've heard his curses when his hand or wrist won't do what he wants. He never complains even though I keep waiting for him to break down and cry. Maybe he cries when I'm not there. Tweek likes to be strong for me for some reason.

On his other wrist is the long ugly pink scar from the burn. Also caused by his mother though he hasn't fessed up to her being the one doing it. The scar stretches from wrist to elbow and is clearly not from an accidental cooking failure. Tweek doesn't say anything about this healed wound either, but I know it still hurts. Whats worse is that its given him a slight fear of fire. He hasn't cooked anything but coffee since his mother went insane.

Finally there's his eye. It used to be milky white with blindness but the color has finally returned. His left eye looks normal but like his hand it isn't. I've seen him squint and tilt his head to see better. Sometimes he jumps when you come up on the left side. He curses his eye too.

I never thought it possible but now that he's cut back on drugs he's shaking more and can't seem to keep a hold of his thoughts. When he speaks he makes wild hand gestures as he tries to remember a slippery thought or word. And sometimes he mixes up his words with words that sound or look similar. Then there are the bruises – always there are bruises – old and new that spot his lithe body. I hate to think it, but Tweek wouldn't be Tweek without bruises. And sometimes I think that maybe I should just let the blonde do all the drugs he wants to.

Other than those things, my boyfriend is fine. If I wasn't Craig Tucker I would probably cry. Tweek Tweak is far from fine. "That bad?" Ruby's voice and eyes go soft at the expression in mine. All I do is sigh and look away.

"He's never going to heal." This is something that I would never in a million years tell the blonde. If I told him he would take it to heart and we would both be in trouble. Ruby frowns. She sits on the edge of my unmade bed and picks a piece of fluff off it. Stripe II's wheel squeaks.

"You don't know that. He's stronger than he looks." For Ruby to call someone strong must mean that they are strong because my little sister does not take strength lightly. She takes pride in being strong enough to take beatings without complaint. Now she's quoting me and I feel my heart break. Kenny was right; Tweek doesn't deserve any of the shit he's had to go through.

"Is mom home." I change the subject. The younger girl shakes her head no. Not surprising because mom is cheating on dad and has been for a while now. We don't really know if dad knows. He would probably just start beating her too.

She's brave enough to cheat on him but not save her kids from him. I hate them both. The only blood kin I love is Ruby and sometimes Grandma. Grandma is complicated since she doesn't know about our father's abuse but at the same time sometimes I hate her because she should know and help us. "You can call him over." Ruby suggests.

I make a noise of confirmation. Then I sit down at my computer chair and swivel so I'm not facing her. As much as I would love to hang out with Tweek more, I've been kind of putting my friends on hold. At least they still call. Token, Clyde, Jimmy, Kevin; they understand. I see them when I'm not with Tweek.

Right now I kind of miss my best friends so I figure I'll call over Token and Clyde. Why stay in this house when I can go somewhere that I don't associate with pain and tension? I get my cellphone out of my pants. "I don't want him over." I say as I set it on the desk. Tweek doesn't need to come over.

Ruby knows so she doesn't argue the point. "I'm calling Karen over." McCormick's little sister. Karen is a sweet girl goes on and on about her guardian angel. I never say anything to her about who her guardian angel is. All I think is that he's hardly an angel.

All I do is nod. When she leaves I set up my laptop. After looking at myself on the screen I hit start. "November 9th. Tweek is still having a hard time. His arm and his eye are still bothering him."

"We had a good night though. After getting coffee and seeing a movie we went back to his place to have sex and smoke weed. I still hate coffee no matter how much crap they put in it. Mom and dad aren't home so Ruby is calling Karen over for a sleepover but I doubt they will get much sleep. I'm going to take a shower then call the guys to see if they want to pick me up." I sigh and run my hand through my messy black hair.

I light up a cigarette and wish it were the American Spirits Tweek smokes. I lean closer to the screen as though telling it a secret. "I'm so worried about Tweek. I'm worried about what Kenny told me. As much as I hate it, Kenny is _ialways/i_ right. Fuck."

"I hope he's wrong about this." My eyes close and I lean back. I breathe in sweet nicotine as I think. "God, if you're there please help Tweek. Give him freedom and ease his pain. Please."

As I face the screen again I see a Craig Tucker that Tweek wouldn't recognize. I'm actually showing emotion and its a bad look on me. It dawns on me that I just prayed to a god I don't believe in to help a boy that I shouldn't have fallen in love with. "Tonight's journal is going to be short. I don't feel like talking much and the gist has already been said." I stop recording and save it with the date as the title.

Then I get up to take a shower. The water is hot. It has to be for my muscles to relax and my bruises to stop hurting. I take a quick shower because I don't want to waste my time alone. I dress in some jeans and a black t-shirt. "Hey, come over."

I tell Token as soon as he picks up. Token will be with Clyde tonight because its a Friday night and that was always our guys night out. Over the phone I hear Clyde wailing about me and smile. "We're going bowling." Token informs me. "Want to come?"

"Only if you pick me up." Since my car is out of gas and I don't have the money to fill up the tank. Token agrees and I hang up. Down the hall in her room I find Ruby half naked listening to music and dancing. She's good at dancing, which is somewhat strange since she's more into sports. I wait for her to notice me and turn it down before speaking.

"Hey, I'm going out with the guys." No need to mention which ones. She nods, I think, or maybe her head is still in the music. "If you burn down the house, make sure you save Stripe II." I warn her. The laughter lets me know she's listening and she nods again. I'm not two steps down the hall towards the stairs and Ruby has the music pumping again.

I go outside and light up another cheap cig. About five minutes later a purple convertible rolls to a stop in my driveway. I get into the front of the vehicle. Its not until we're out of sight that we start speaking. "Hey man, you smell like major sex." Clyde greets me.

I roll my eyes but don't argue. "How's Tweek? Haven't seen him in a while." Seeing someone at school doesn't count as seeing someone. I shrug and Token frowns. They drop the subject of my boyfriend.

"So whats the plan dude?" Token asks me. I'm kind of the leader of our threesome, even though I've been MIA. As we drive down the dark streets of South Park with the top down and the cold wind hitting us, I feel alive. Its a good feeling. It means I haven't fallen too far into the rabbit hole of anger and agony.

"We should go to Denver." Clyde says before I can say something. I ask him whats in Denver. The brunette smiles. "Whores, man." I think of the nameless, faceless boys Tweek used to fuck before going out with me – and still sometimes fucks for drugs – and grind my teeth together.

"Whoa,_ isomeone/i _doesn't like the whores in Denver." That's not even something I feel the need to justify with an answer. A lot about Tweek I keep to myself instead of sharing with my Best Friends. They don't need to know, is my reasoning. No matter how much I want to share the burden, its not mine to give away. Of course Token comes to the rescue.

"You do realize I told Craig we would be _bowling_ right?" Token confirms. He raises an eyebrow. Clyde nods and I can just _feel_ the whine coming on. Token's expression confirms that he can feel it too. I exhale smoke in the brunette's face.

After the brief coughing fit, the chubby brunette says, "But I want to get laid!" Isn't that the goal for most teenage boys? The teenage girls too, I bet. When he says it I realize that I have really missed a lot of their lives. Fuck.

I've been away from them too long. I don't even know if my Best Friends are still virgins. "You're still a virgin aren't you." I ask to clarify. Clyde whines. That would be a yes.

"Don't rub it in!" The brunette pouts. He sulks in the back seat. "I don't have boyfriends like you two!" Boyfriends? We turn onto the freeway towards Denver.

Just as I'm wondering who Token is going out with, the dark-skinned teen protests. "Dylan isn't my boyfriend." Dylan? I try to place the name with a face. I'm not the most popular kid at school – I'm one of them though – and I may not pay the closest attention, but you would think I would know who Dylan is. Maybe he doesn't go to our school.

"Who the fuck is Dylan?" I ask a little jealously. Clearly I've missed a lot if I don't know who the fuck this Dylan person is. Why didn't they tell me? That's a dumb question; I've been neglecting them. In the dark I can't see Token's expression.

In the back seat Clyde makes a face. I don't think he's realized that he got his wish to go to Denver. "The Red Goth." Token is dating a Goth kid? My Token? The Token I could have sworn was straight?

Token who last I heard was dating Red? My brain tells me he has a thing for red hair. But Red Goth's hair is dyed red _iand black/i_. "Why are you dating a Goth." I ask directly. No beating around the bush for Craig Tucker.

Token sighs. "Dylan isn't a bad guy." Wow, that sounds like something almost every girl at school has said before. "And he is not my boyfriend." Clyde sticks his face in the space between us and pokes Token's cheek with his index finger. "Don't poke the driver."

Toke's voice is a little irritated. I get the feeling they've had this conversation many times before. "Poking leads to pregnancy." I chime in more to get them off the subject. My eyes are glued to the shadowy forest outside the car. I find myself wondering if Tweek could handle the ride in a car like this in the dark.

"If it really led to pregnancy, Tweek would be a whale." I smack Clyde in the face with the back of my hand. I'm so good I don't even have to look. "God, you're such an asshole, Craig!" I flip him off. "Anyway, if he isn't your boyfriend, Toke, why did you make out with him at the graveyard party?"

No one needs to elaborate _which_ graveyard party; there was only one. "Why was a Goth at the party." Goths and the rest of us don't mix well. Particularly Goths and McCormick. Kenny seems to have made it his mission to stay as far away from them as possible. And since the Freaky Four were hosting that particular party it stands to reason that a Goth wouldn't show up.

"I believe it was the graveyard part that lured him in." Token explains dryly. I can feel his tension from the passenger seat. When we get rid of Clyde for a minute I'm going to have to talk to my friend. Who knows what a Goth was doing at the graveyard. Something Satanic, I'm sure.

To clarify, I ask him "You were making out with him." To my surprise Token looks really embarrassed. Wow. Confident Token has been reduced to blushing. This Goth must have had quite the impact on him.

He uses an excuse that many use after doing something they don't want people to know they enjoyed. "I was high." Its an excuse I don't like because Tweek is always high. It just seems wrong to blame something on drugs when my boyfriend is never sober. My heart gives a painful jolt when I think of Tweek screaming he hates me. To clear my head of the memory I shake it and take another hit of nicotine.

"But you talk to him don't you." I confirm the suspicion. Token's dreadlocks bounce with the nod of his head. Because I honestly don't know, I ask, "What do Goths talk about." In the back seat Clyde has gone strangely quiet.

I can see him in the side mirror though. "Not a lot, honestly. Mostly nonconformist stuff." How surprising. What exactly does Token see in the nonconformist stuff? Sometimes my friends still surprise me.

"I'm not hanging out with losers." I warn him. Its as close to my blessing as he'll get. Token glares at me silently. I don't waver. No losers.

Goths count as losers. As it is, Kevin and Jimmy are only sometimes allowed to hang out with us. When I'm feeling generous. Sometimes not even then. Clyde suddenly sits up. "I gotta piss!"

Token pulls over to the side of the road to let the brunette out. Clyde gets out of the car and makes a mad dash for the woods. The darkness swallows him up. I turn to Token. Before I can say anything, Token cuts me off. "I really like him."

Because Token is my friend and I do want him to be happy, I just nod. "Honestly, how are you and Tweek?" I let Token get away with that too because this has been stressful on him. And I want us on good terms. Like I did when answering the same question for Ruby I think before I speak. Over the side of the car I flick the ashes of my cigarette onto the snowy ground.

"It hurts watching him." I say honestly. My voice is a whisper. I don't want anyone but Token to hear me. "He broke three coffee cups this week and I think he was crying one day before I came over." I'm not good at soothing people who are in emotional turmoil but whatever I do for Tweek seems to work well.

I'm worried that one day his hand will be totally useless but I don't speak this fear out loud. Spoken fears can come true. "He is frustrated with himself. And his mom keeps getting worse. She's smothering him." Literally smothering him with a pillow when I got there this morning.

Tweek just let her. I wonder if he wants to die. Our conversation from the graveyard comes to mind. The thought makes my heart hurt. I don't know how to fix my own problems let alone Tweek's. I lean my head back with a quiet sigh.

"You're way too tense, dude." Token informs me. I try to relax but it doesn't work. To change the subject he asks, "How's Ruby?" I shrug.

"I think she's gay." Token's eyes ask me _why_. "She's been hanging around McCormick's sister a lot. Naked." Almost every time I get home Ruby is with Karen and when its at our house they are generally in some state of undress. Personally I don't care if my little sister is a dyke.

But it won't be easy with our father. Then again, nothing is ever easy with that asshole. "Seriously? Where are you getting the gayness from?" Instead of admitting I don't know, I shrug. In my pocket I finger the lighter I stole from Tweek when we first started talking.

Clyde comes back a few minutes later. If he's caught on to our talk, he shows no sign of it. "Fuck I hate the woods." He shivers as he climbs into the back seat. "Lets get the fuck outta here, Token." Token drives.

The mood in the car is a little lighter, but not much. For the rest of the ride we either joke around or sit in silence. Knowing that Tweek will be awake I txt him throughout the entire ride. He tells me that he's drawing again but he won't tell me what. Just something about a cat. I thought he only drew people and props, but I guess I was wrong.

Finally the purple convertible rolls to a stop. Neon lights tell us that we're at the bowling alley. You would have thought it was a pornographic store by all the neon lights, bowling ball advertisements, and club music. We get out and stretch before going in. As usual Token buys. I hate the shoes we have to put on because they don't flatter me at all but I take comfort in the fact that they don't flatter anybody.

We start playing. Surprisingly Clyde is the best. Even though he's eating and tripping over himself half the time, Clyde gets strike after strike. I happen to be the worst, but I'm putting up a pretty good fight. Must be an athletic thing. And theatre thing.

Okay, I just suck. As I'm about to get a soda I see the Freaky Four walk in. They see us and Stan instantly frowns when he spots me. For some reason that I have not been privileged to know, they walked over to where I was. Corning me alone, I have to admit its a good ploy. The first thing that happens is Kyle snapping at Cartman for something I didn't see.

The raven pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. He's probably worried about looking bad in front of me. Honestly there is no way in Hell the four of them can get lower in my eyes. Kenny waves at me, giving me a sly smile. "You taking good care of Tweekers for me? Keeping his bed nice and warm?"

I want to punch him in the face. As it is, I squeeze the cup so hard that soda spills all over my hand. Fuck. Cartman bursts out laughing. "Yeah, that's really fucking funny Cartman, so is this." Whats left of the sugary beverage I pour on his head.

Kyle sighs. "Come on, Cartman, before you get us kicked out." The Jew takes a hold of Cartman's arm and I see the brunette visibly relax. As they walk towards the men's room I can't help but think Tweek was right about them being secret lovers. Kenny has an amused expression on his face and Stan doesn't seem to have noticed the exchange. Looks like I'll have to make do with the drinking fountain because there is no way in Hell I'm stepping foot in that bathroom with those two in it.

Stan mumbles something about paying and leaving everyone alone as he walks away leaving me with the blonde. "That was fucking funny." Kenny says, all smiles. "I was serious man, how is Tweek?" Why does everyone ask me this? "If I'da known you were gonna be here, Tucker, I'da gone to see him instead of having my ass dragged to Denver."

"What the fuck does that mean, McCormick." I ask, my voice colder than ice. The blonde shivers but his smile never leaves him. Peeking out from beneath the fur of his hoodie I see hickies. Did Tweek leave those? He wouldn't cheat on me right?

Uncomfortably I recall the drugs. "Don't get all territorial. Tweek was my friend before he was your boyfriend." Look who's getting territorial now. I turn around to walk to the water fountain and unsurprisingly McCormick follows me. Using my hip to hold the button I hold both hands under the water and do my best to get the stickiness off.

"Tweek is as fine as he can be." I'll let Kenny read into that as much as he wants. The blonde nods to himself and hums slightly. Unlike with Ruby and Token, I'm not giving in and telling the truth about Tweek. "You're his friend, why aren't you asking him." I question.

Kenny sighs and his expression turns irritated. "Because he won't tell me the truth. He thinks he's fucking hiding it and protecting me or some shit." I can see it in his face that Kenny doesn't want to call Tweek out on his lies unless he has to. "Though he does feel guilty about the drugs I keep giving him. Could use that as an incentive to tell the truth."

_Kenny _is the one giving Tweek drugs? Are they still sleeping together? I take a breath to control my anger before it gets the best of me. Tweek is trying to quit drugs, I'm trying to quit rash reactions. "You're giving him drugs. For free."

The blonde shakes his head. I feel my hands curling into fists. "Tweek won't sleep with me anymore. So I make him give me food." Food. Of course. I feel the anger leave me.

Thank God its just food. Though I feel like an asshole for suspecting my boyfriend of cheating on me. Feeling just a little bit less hostile near Kenny, I walk away again to refill my drink. This time he doesn't follow me, something I'm glad for. Rejoining Clyde and Token is like taking a dip in the pool on a hot day; refreshing. Its my turn and I manage to get my first strike.

Three hours later we are making the two hour drive back to South Park. I lost. Clyde won. Token kept score. Stan's gang didn't interrupt us or start a fight. It was a good game.

Tweek and I are still txting. The cat drawing is finished, he informs me, and I'll get to see it when I come over next. I'll take anything he's willing to give me, even if its only a glance at the artwork he creates. In the backseat Clyde is asleep. His snoring can barely be heard over the wind howling. Token looks as he always does – awake, alert, calm.

I don't know how he functions. Period. Slowly I close my eyes and let out a sigh. Its a bit chilly with the roof down in November, but whatever. Suddenly the car is skidding on the road and I'm smashed against the passenger door. Opening my eyes, the world spins around me.

Clyde wakes up with a small scream. I hear him say something about not wanting to die but I'm hanging on for dear life as we spin on the road. It takes maybe five seconds for us to wreck into the snow at the side of the road but it feels like five hours. My heart is pounding like a stallion's hooves against the ground and my eyes are wide. "What the fuck happened." I ask when I'm sure my voice won't tremble.

Token puts the convertible into reverse. "Deer." Snow kicks up on both side but we don't move. "Shit." He doesn't sound worried or anything even though we've just go into an accident because of fucking Bambi. Maybe he has a plan.

I look for my phone and find it on the floor between my feet. The three little bars make me so happy I can't even begin to describe it. "Who are you going to call?" Clyde asks. That's a good fucking question. Obviously not an adult, since I'm probably supposed to be home watching Ruby right now even though she's a goddamn teenager and able to take care of herself.

That and Token might – unlikely – get in trouble for this. "I'm not supposed to be out!" The brunette whines. I don't bother snapping at him. Instead I txt Tweek, telling him not to worry but we got in an accident and are stuck in the middle of the fucking forest. Predictably, my boyfriend worries.

"Hey babe." I greet him when my phone vibrates. Meanwhile Token is on the phone with someone. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little cold. Don't worry Tweekers."

"B-But I-I could have l-lost you f-forever. Nngh! I can't t-take that man!" Tweek protests. I try, in vain, to reassure him I'm okay. "Craig, you don't understand, _you're all I have_."

Its about right then I realize that he means it. Tweek genuinely thinks that I'm the only person in the world who cares about him. He doesn't know about Kenny asking about him or everyone else who asks if he's okay. I know that they mostly ask for my sake, but they also kind of care about my blonde boyfriend. All I can think to say is, "I love you."

"I love you too." His tone is still worried. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if Tweek stays up all night until he sees me in the flesh to judge for himself that I'm okay. Even though it wasn't my plan, I guess I'm going to go back over there. At least for a minute. Another idea comes to mind as I watch Token talk in a low tone to someone on the phone. Asking my friend's permission to invite my boyfriend over to his mansion would be considerate, but making Tweek happy is a priority.

Funny how much your priorities can change in only a few months. Or, in our case, half a year. "Look, when we get back to South Park why don't you come spend the night at Token's with me." I invite him over. Clyde leans close to my face to listen in, the conversation having caught his interest. I shove him away.

"I," Tweek pauses then restarts. "Okay. Gah!" My phone beeps, telling me it wants to die. I smile and tell him I love him again.

As I'm hanging up my phone, Token is hanging up his. "Whats the deal, dude?" Clyde asks before either of us can say anything. Token tells us he called Dylan to come pick us up. Great. I don't bother to hide my irritated expression.

The last thing I want to do is sit in a car with a faggy fucking Goth kid. "Tweek is spending the night." I inform them. Token shrugs. He has a certain gleam in his eye that makes me wonder if the Goth is _ionly/i _giving us a ride home. Predictably Clyde pouts again.

"I want to have someone spend the night too!" Token and I are silent. I notice he doesn't deny having the Red Goth spend the night. I wonder if they have had sex yet. Another possessive wave spikes my blood. "Can Kevin spend the night?"

I groan. "Sure. Why the fuck not. Have two losers over." This was supposed to be our night. Then again, I'm the one who invited Tweek.

Token is glaring at me. "Dude, don't call Dylan a loser." I'm tempted to say something asshole-y but the look in Token's dark eyes stops me. He's way fucking defensive and if I cross the line he will definitely kick me out of the car. So I look out the windshield and cross my arms, glad I brought a jacket but wishing for some heat. We sit in stoney silence.

An hour later a black vehicle that looks like a hearse is rolling to a stop by the side of the road. Token gets out of the car and slides his keys in his pocket. He goes to the passenger door and gets in. Clyde and I look at each other before following our dark-skinned friend. Inside the hearse its hot as fuck and smells like weed and cigarette smoke. The Goth kid is sitting in the drivers seat looking like he belongs in a grave.

He looks the same as he did when we were in grade school, but taller and thinner. Dylan doesn't say anything. Clyde mumbles something about how creepy this is. I've been in creepier situations so I don't comment. When we're all in the Red Goth hits the gas and we're speeding down the highway towards South Park. Slouching in the backseat I txt Tweek again, telling him that we're on our way.

It takes some bribing on Token's part and another fifteen minutes to get to Tweek's house once we're in South Park. As we stop in front of my boyfriend's house I can't help but worry when I notice the lights are off. I send him a quick txt telling him I'm here. My eyes strain to find some sign of life at the house. "You sure he's here?" Dylan asks, his voice irritated.

Token is giving me a look that mirrors the Goth's question. I ignore them as I get out of the car and walk up to his door. When I try it I'm vaguely surprised to see that its unlocked. Cigarette smoke hits my nose. Stepping into the living room I see a dark shape on the couch and the faint red glow of a cigarette. At first I don't know who it is sitting on the couch and fear the worst, but then I hear a familiar sigh.

Slowly I approach Tweek on the couch. He's so still its worrying me. I don't know what to say so I don't say anything. Instead I kneel in front of him and take his face in my hands. There's something painfully sad about him. Tweek's face doesn't look bruised or injured so I figure that it must be somewhere else.

Guessing, I lift up his shirt. Bloody ace bandages are wrapped around his stomach. Even though I'm so angry I could kill someone, I don't give any sign of it. Tweek's hands are shaking when I curl my fingers around his wrists. We sit like that in the quiet of his abandoned house until a car horn honks. His eyes squeeze closed.

I stand up and wait for him to follow me out the door. On the way out he twists the lock before shutting the door with a quiet click. He's wearing long sleeves again, I notice. To hide his burn scar? Tweek denied it last time I asked so I've decided to take the hint and drop it. Knowing about his preference for the middle seat since its apparently the safest in the car, I allow Tweek to squeeze in between Clyde and I.

He doesn't ask who Dylan is and Dylan doesn't greet him in any way. Just as well. Hopefully the Red Goth won't become a part of our group. Or Token's boyfriend. Then again, it takes some affection for someone to drive an hour away to pick up three people he may or may not like and then another fifteen minutes to pick up another one that he probably doesn't like. As I'd guessed, Red Goth gets out of the car with us when we stop in Token's long driveway.

"Honey, I'm home!" Clyde greets the mansion with a wide grin. "I'm calling Kevin." The brunette informs us before running into the mansion. Token and Dylan walk in next followed by Tweek and I. Judging by the unexpected company, I'm guessing that we're not going to be seeing much of each other.

For a while we all sit in the living room waiting on the verdict with Clyde and Kevin. A few minutes later Clyde announces that his nerdy friend is going to spend the night as well and is on his way. I wonder if Kevin is even properly dressed. Those two have such hard boners for each other its not even funny. For whatever reason they haven't gotten together yet. "We're going to my room."

In Token's mansion we have designated guest rooms. They actually have some clothes in the drawers and closets that we've left over or lent Token in the rare instant he needed them. Tweek looks relieved to finally be alone with me and doesn't hesitate to let me guide him to my room. Since its usually just Token, Clyde, and I together, I haven't been in my second room in a long time. So I just stare at the empty guinea pig cage in the corner on its stand until it clicks. The cage is a painful reminder of my house so I turn to look at my dresser instead.

Sitting on it is my camera. Wow. I walk over to it, lost in memories of a film I was working on about an American convict going to Jamaica to escape the law and falling in love with the native. That was my only love story ever. The rest of my films are action and mystery. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to film a Jamaica scene in South Park.

"You have your own room?" The cage and camera have obviously not escaped Tweek's observant golden eyes. I nod. In the mirror above the dresser I see Tweek standing over the bed with something in his hands. It looks like my old chullo. The blonde brings it to his face and nuzzles it, lost in his own little world.

In times like this I wish I could read his mind or hear his thoughts. Tweek jerks out of his reverie and my chullo drops back to the bed. My heart breaks as I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders lightly. "What happened." Maybe he'll tell me the truth this time. For some reason I doubt it; Tweek always makes up excuses for his psychotic mother.

Tweek looks back at me then down at himself. I don't think he's come up with an excuse yet. "It was an – nngh - accident." An accident. Sure; so is my father beating my sister and I. Accident my ass.

But I don't call him out on it and I don't even know why I don't. Instead I take his trembling hand and lead him to the nearest bathroom, which happens to be down the hall. Blood is starting to seep through his shirt. Gently I peel off the shirt and firmly sit the blonde down on the edge of the tub. Taking care not to harm him further, I unwrap the bandages and throw them in the trash. Using his already-ruined shirt and water I clean the wound – a wound that looks like it was made by a knife.

Next I clean it with rubbing alcohol. Tweek gasps and his body flinches back against the stinging pain but he makes no other complaint. Now that its clean I see that its not bad enough to need stitches. How is it Tweek always avoids the hospital? Rummaging through the drawers and cabinets I'm disappointed when I don't find bandages. Band Aids just won't cut it.

"Wait here." I tell my trembling boyfriend. Tweek's large golden doe eyes stare up at me so trusting and he nods. If I ever let him down I swear I'll kill myself. When I open the door I'm surprised to see Token and Dylan in hall outside the door. For a moment we just stare at each other.

"I told you it smells like blood." The Red Goth says in a totally emotionless voice. His green eyes look me up and down. "Must be your boy toy. Too rough on him?" Before I even think about what I'm doing my fist is connecting with the Goth's jaw.

I'm about to hit him again when Token grabs my arm. "Craig!" We struggle against each other but in the end Token is stronger than I am. "What the fuck man?" Yes, I crossed the friend lines by punching Token's beloved. But that asshole shouldn't say shit like that.

I would _never _hurt Tweek like that. "Whats going – gah! - on?" We all look up to see Tweek standing in the doorway, leaning heavily on the frame. He's lost all his color and the wound is bleeding again. Quickly I untangle myself from Token and go to his side. "I'm okay." he answers my question before I can get it out.

"Your boyfriend is being a conformist asshole." Dylan informs my blonde. To my surprise Tweek frowns at me. Do they know each other? Its bad enough that Tweek hangs out with McCormick; not a Goth too. Said Goth stands up.

"You need stitches." Dylan observes. Maybe I had been wrong about it but I hate to think that. Tweek's silence tells me he probably knew this. But like with every other wound no matter how bad he was just going to ride it out. I feel myself get angry, not necessarily at him but at this entire situation and his stupid parents and the goddamn world for being so unfair.

Token is staring at Tweek with concerned brown eyes. "Do you want to go to the hospital?" Quickly Tweek shakes his head. I find myself half hoping that Token will drive Tweek there regardless. Instead he asks, "What happened?"

Tweek's face gets a little color back. "I was – ack! - mugged." Looks like he did have an excuse. Just not one I would believe. Token is nodding like it makes sense. Maybe it does.

Hell if I know. Dylan sighs. "I guess I should fix you." Tweek nods again. I'm getting annoyed by this conversation; not so much the context as the fact that they are talking like they know each other. "Toke, you have any sewing junk?"

"Yes. Tweek, you stay here while we go get them." Token hesitates. "Do you want something?" Dylan is tapping his foot impatiently. To my surprise Tweek smiles.

"No thanks." The two walk off down the hallway. Tweek looks at me and his smile morphs into a grimace. "We've been in the same art class all of high school." The blonde explains. He won't meet my eyes.

"What are you on." Sometimes I wish my voice wasn't so cold. Tweek retreats into the bathroom and sits on the edge of the tub again. I follow him and cross my arms. He shrugs lightly. "Dia-"

"No. Just some Tylenol." Now he looks at me. "I don't take Diamorphine a-as often as you – gah! - think I do." Memories of our first week together swim behind my eyelids when I close them and I can very clearly hear Tweek scream _I hate you Craig Tucker _before drinking an entire bottle of NyQuil and passing out right there in the school bathroom. I remember sitting there arguing with myself about taking him to a hospital, about my feelings for him, and about his real feelings for me.

In the end I stayed by him but it didn't stop me from wondering if this was all we would be and telling myself I should dump him. After getting him to a hospital, of course. Something made me stay with him. Now, as cheesy as it sounds, I think it was love. I was so angry at him and so hurt I made him walk his own drugged ass through the school, to my car, into the pizza place, and up to his room all by himself without even offering a hand even though I knew it was killing him to move. Tweek is definitely stronger than most people give him credit for, even stronger than I gave him credit for. It killed me to not touch him and I didn't understand why; we had only just gotten together.

Now I stare at him with a mask of indifference on while he waits for me to say something. I kiss his forehead and sit beside him. "I love you." I try not to say it too often because I don't want it to become a habit; something that doesn't mean anything. But I just care about him so much sometimes I can't help it. Seeing his gorgeous face light up is worth it.

"I love you too." Shyly Tweek kisses the back of my hand. My heart flutters in my chest. "Thank you." I raise an eyebrow in question. "For picking me up."

My stomach twists into knots. Tweek probably would have sat on the couch and bled to death. All because he loves his mother. Personally I don't understand it. "Don't mention it." Dylan and Token come back with a needle and black thread.

When Dylan started to stitch Tweek up I was a bunch of nerves. "Looks like you've done this before." I comment. Its more to reassure myself that the Red Goth isn't further injuring my boyfriend. Token doesn't look worried, but then again he hardly ever does. Token is so in control of everything; that man has life by balls.

Dylan makes quick work of stitching up the wound. His stitches are nice and neat. Turning to me the Goth lifts up his shirt. His pale skinny body is peppered with scars. "I've had practice." He lets the shirt drop.

Tweek is looking at him curiously. The Red Goth notices. "Evan likes to play rough." Its weird to think that the Goth boys have names. "Don't strain yourself or you'll start to bleed again." Token walks over and plants a quick kiss on the red and black dyed hair.

"We're going to my room. Clyde and Kevin are in Clyde's room. Have a good night you two." Dylan walks out of the bathroom and Token goes to follow him but pauses. "When do you have to be home, Craig?" His dark eyes are looking at me with pity. I hate it.

"About noon." I decide without thinking about it. The dark-skinned teen nods and leaves. Tweek and I return to my room. I shed my clothes, he takes off his jeans and boxers and together we crawl into bed. After a kiss good night he snuggles against my chest and I close my eyes.


	2. I Can't Find The Answer

When I wake up Tweek is sitting up beside me. He's staring non-blinking at our reflections in the mirror with his knees drawn to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. "I can't see." There was a time he used to scream this phrase. Now he says it like one would say that its a little cold outside. I don't know how he knew I was awake since I haven't moved yet.

Tweek used to cry and cling to me and look at me but only see me with one eye and say, _Craig, I can't see_. It was times like those that our last trip to the graveyard plays through my head. We haven't been to that place since that one time after the Freaky Four party when Tweek asked me to bury him under the willow tree. Now, when I sit up to look at him, I see that there are tears sliding down the left side of his face. "Your vision will come back." Silently I'm wondering how long he hasn't been able to see.

Tweek turns his head to look at me instead of the reflection of me. "Half an – nngh – hour." Did he read my mind? "I've been – gah – like this f-for half a hour." The last time Tweek went blind like this was for twenty minutes. My concern for him grows as my heart breaks a little more.

Its not easy being the boyfriend of Tweek Tweak. Not that I would ever want to i_not/i_ be his boyfriend. I lean over and kiss his temple. "This isn't permanent." As long as I sound like I believe it, Tweek will probably believe it too. The blonde goes back to looking at us in the mirror.

When he doesn't answer after a few seconds I ask, "Did you sleep tonight." Slowly he shakes his head. I sigh but know that its useless scolding him for not sleeping. He can't help being an insomniac. "Come on, lets -"

Before I can say lets go get some coffee in his system, Tweek cuts me off. "C-Craig, do you think I'm gong to -" More wetness appears on just his left cheek. Glancing in the mirror I see that he isn't actually looking at us, but his gaze is distant. Tweek is just barely here with me in my bed. I can't lose him.

"Don't say it." I cut him off like he did me. I forcibly move his face so that its turned to me and I press my lips to his. The salt from his tears wets my lips and I can taste it on my tongue. "Don't say it." I repeat as we part for breath, only a hairs width away from each other.

The look Tweek gives me tells me that I'm not as steely around him anymore. Somehow he reads me like a book when no one else can. We sit in a tense silence for a moment, waiting for the other to say something. Finally he breaks it. "Coffee – ack! - sounds good." I nod, relieved that the conversation is being kept at bay.

We leave the room in our boxers, not caring what others think. Token's kitchen isn't as empty as I thought it would be. The other four teenagers sit there. I put an arm around Tweek's shoulders and guide him to Token's large selection of imported coffee. At the sight of so many different flavors of coffee, the blonde perks up. "Its about time you two got up."

I flip Clyde off and go to the fridge to get some orange juice. Instead of getting a glass I drink it straight from the carton. Thus claiming it as my own. Its not like Token can't afford to get more. "We aren't early birds." I reply in my usual deadpan voice.

"You mean _you _aren't an early bird. Tweek gets up early all the time." How Clyde knows this I don't know. Token sighs, probably thinking its too early for this. Glancing at the clock I see its only eight o clock. Fuck.

Tweek is at the coffee pot making his coffee. He goes to pour the beans when his hand suddenly twitches and releases the bag. Coffee beans spill all over the counter and onto the tile floor. For a moment no one says anything. Then my blonde mumbles _fuck_. Tweek bends over to pick them up.

Kevin makes the mistake of trying to help but Tweek snaps at him that he's _perfectly capable of cleaning this shit up, thank you very much. _To avoid looking at him I take a large swallow of it right to pretend not to see? That's what everyone does when it comes to my bruises. I don't think they realize I know how they look at me and don't say anything. It doesn't matter; I don't care.

Tweek cleans up the mess himself. The beans that were on the floor go into the garbage. The ones on the counter are used. From the corner of my eye I watch him and my heart _aches_ because I want him to be one hundred percent okay and there is nothing I can do to help him. After some awkward silence Dylan speaks up, "You been drawing lately, Tweek?"

Tweek gives a jerk of his head. I look in Token's bread drawer and find some blueberry muffins. They remind me too much of the blueberry pancakes Tweek's mother tried to poison me with so I leave them be. Instead I get some disgustingly healthy cereal and eat it dry using my fingers. "I did a – gah! - self portrait." The blonde answers.

"Am I going to get to see this one?" Dylan asks. He rests his cheek on his hand and looks at the blonde with kohl-lined green eyes. Tweek shakes his head no. Dylan sighs as though he's used to it. "You never let me see any of your good stuff."

I thought Goths talked about nonconformist shit. "Quit fucking staring at me." The Red Goth snarls. Looking around I see everyone but Tweek looking at him. The blonde teen is still facing the coffee pot. His entire body trembles.

"Doesn't Tweek count as a conformist?" Clyde questions. I'm halfway finished with my cereal by now. I should figure out what we're going to do today. Its Saturday so we don't have any school but I also have to beat my asshole dad home. Maybe we should go to Starks Pond and chill.

I watch those green kohl-lined eyes watching Tweek. "Tweek is so fucked up he can't be a conformist." There's wistfulness and admiration in Dylan's tone. Dear God not another guy who has a man crush on my boyfriend. At hearing he's fucked up Tweek lets out an animalistic noise. No one – not even the shaking blonde – argues about him being fucked up.

This has pretty much silenced all of us. I don't know what to say. From the corner of my eye I watch the blonde, and so I know the second he gets his eyesight back. Tweek doesn't do anything but shift his weight from one hand supporting him on the counter to the other but I _know_ he can see again. It lifts my heart and I glance at the clock to do the math.

About 45 minutes since he first went blind. That's more than double the amount of time last time. I lean over and kiss his pierced ear. All of his piercings healed up nicely. I'd have to say my favorite is the rarely seen navel one. Tweek seems to be partial to the small silver hoop in my ear.

"I have to get back soon." I'm not going to be cutting it overly close or anything, but I'll just be anxious and bad tempered until I get home; where I'll be distressed even more so but at the same time a little more at ease because I'm where I'm supposed to be. Token gives me a sympathetic look that makes me want to punch him in the face. But its not his fault my life is like this so I just turn back to the shaking blonde. "We'll drop you off first." Something flashes across Tweek's face too quickly for me to read it.

Even though its been a year, Tweek has never asked to go to my house before. I guess he knows I don't want him there because of my dad. Well, okay, its not _just _my dad. Its the _feeling_ of fear trapped in the lies that makes up the foundation of my household. Its more stifling than Tweek's house, which feels like maybe once there was life but there hasn't been for years. My house feels lived in, at the very least.

"You two are so cute." Clyde sighs as Tweek leans against my chest with a steaming mug of coffee clutched in both trembling hands. Yeah, we're so fucking adorable. Tweek is blushing and not looking at anyone. I guess that's cute. Together we aren't really cute though. We're fucking sexy.

As customary, I flip him off. We finish eating – for Tweek its just drinking – and return to my room. I pull on some old clothes from the closet and offer Tweek a pair. Even though they are oversized he accepts them, holding them to his chest as though afraid I'm going to take them back. How exactly would a normal boyfriend react to such a thing? I decide to ignore it.

"I don't want – nngh! - to go h-home." Tweek confides quietly as he slips into my jeans. They are disturbingly loose; particularly when you take into consideration I'm not anywhere near being fat. He knows that I'm not going to hang out with him for the rest of the day- much as I would like to. I don't have to see the number he punches in to know that the blonde is txting Kenny. "I wish you – gah! - didn't have to either."

Once again I don't respond. What can I say to any of this? Most people think I'm mysterious but really I'm just socially awkward and a major asshole. By some miracle I manage to come off as someone who just doesn't give a damn. I think Tweek sees through all of that mysterious lone wolf bullshit. That's one of the things I love about him.

After breakfast Token drops me off at my house. When I walk inside, Ruby is sitting on the couch with Karen resting her head in my sister's lap. On the TV is some old movie, the volume set low. Neither girl notices me. The McCormick girl is singing softly.

She has as beautiful a voice as her older brother. My sister's eyes are glued to the screen but I know she isn't watching it. Her fingers run through the other girl's dirty blonde hair. For a moment I hesitate to interrupt them. I know I wouldn't want anyone interrupting Tweek and I. My sister looks so happy.

I hate to ruin it with my unwanted presence. So I try to slip through unnoticed up to my room. But her gray eyes look up at me. Her peacefulness doesn't change but she has a small smile that I know is just for me. I smile back before disappearing into my room. Stripe II chatters happily from his cage.

I go over and stroke him on his little head. We look at each other and I feel a bond with him that I've only ever felt with guinea pigs. And Tweek. Peru crosses my mind and I shudder. Now that I'm older it really freaks me out. I don't like being one of _them_.

The Freaky Four. Never will I voluntarily do anything with them. Or lend anyone money. They can call me cheap, but I'm just being cautious. Anyone who went through what I did would do the same. And of course if anyone tells me they can double my money I turn around and walk away.

When I pick up Stripe II he nuzzles against me and settles down. I can feel his little heart beating so fast. Things are good; then my phone vibrates. With a sigh – expecting it to be Clyde or whoever – I answer it. Instead I see Tweek's name. As always my heart races in my chest when I open the txt.

_I love you._

Shit. Quickly I txt it back so as to not further stress him out. A mental image of him smiling with his sad sunshine eyes pops into my head. My breath catches in my throat. Stripe II stares up at me with quizzical black button eyes. I wait for a reply.

Absently I stroke the small fury body of my Guinea pig. I'm too young for this, I think to myself. Not that I want a life without Tweek or anything. I love him to death. But I'm too young for this. Unfortunately this thought goes through my head quite frequently. I shake it to clear these thoughts.

No reply comes by the time the front door opens. My eyes close and my heart rate speeds up. With perfectly calm movements I put Stripe II back in his cage. I poke my head out of my room to look down the hallway. Ruby and Karen are in Ruby's room. That's good but it won't last long.

The McCormick girl is literally the only thing protecting Ruby right now. Aside from me. "CRAIG!" My name is a roar. I close my eyes and gently close the door. As quietly as possible I lock it.

I open my eyes, stare at the door for a split second. Tonight I don't want to fight. "Craig motherfucking Tucker get your worthless ass down here boy!" I'm disgusted at the snake of fear that twists down my spine. My dad will be upstairs soon pounding on the door. Curling my fingers underneath the edge of my desk, I drag it over in front of my door.

Then I lift my small dresser and place it on top of the desk. Pushing and shoving my bed in front of that is more work. I can hear his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and getting closer. _Please keep her safe, Karen. _Adrenaline floods my bloodstream. My eyes slide closed again.

He's on the other side of the door now. Even from another room I can smell the Bailey's on him. It reminds me of Tweek. My boyfriend still drinks. And that reminds me of my father. "Open the fucking door faggot."

I wrap my arms around my torso. From the other side of the door I hear, "No son of mine is going to be a faggot." He tries the handle, finds out my door is locked. Maybe he will give up. "OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR YOU SINFUL WASTE OF SPACE!"

The pounding on the door is loud, heavy. It echos in my head. Stripe II has taken to cowering inside his little wooden house. He doesn't like this any more than I do. Wood splinters. A chill goes up my spine and the fine hairs on the back of my neck raise.

Dad pounds on the door with his fists again. The wood protests. I suppose that so many years of beating the door has made it weak. I'd rather dad's hand break than my door. Through the hole in the door I can see his sweaty red face. There is no sense in his eyes whatsoever.

I've never really been afraid of my father, but now I'm terrified. If he gets in here dad won't stop beating me until I'm dead. This is something I know as surely as I know that Tweek loves me. While dad is turning my door into wood chips I race around my room. I pull on another layer of clothes, grab my cell phone, and dump an entire box of food into my guinea pig's home. Then I throw open my window. Even though I'm on the second floor I don't care; I jump out my window.

The two feet of snow on the ground cushions my fall but I still feel pain in my left ankle. As soon as I'm outside I look to Ruby's window. It's wide open and there are two sets of footprints leading away. Relief floods through me. Now the only one still in that house I care about is Stripe II.

Dad has never hurt him before but there is always a first time for everything. I jog to Tweek's house. Normally I would be going to Token's but I have to check up on the blonde regardless. It is cold out here – and the temperature is dropping by the minute as the sun goes down – which makes me extra thankful for the second layer of clothing I pulled on. Who knows when I will return. _If _I ever go back.

My father is a drunk. When most people think of the drunks in town they think of Randy Marsh or Stuart McCormick, both notorious consumers of alcohol. My father, Thomas Tucker, drinks enough liquor to sink the Titanic – not that anyone every notices because the man is exceptionally good at acting sober when he's really shitfaced. Or maybe when he's sober he acts more shitfaced than he does when he's drunk. Regardless.

On the way there I see a familiar SUV driving by. Mom. She pulls it over to the sidewalk and inches it along at a crawl. "Craig, what are you doing out here?" She asks with a slur to her voice. From the corner of my eye I glare at my mother.

I flip her off. Keep walking. Debate how honest to be then decide it doesn't really matter as long as she doesn't know who he is. "Going to see my boyfriend." She stares hard at me. Mom doesn't like my sexuality any more than dad does but instead of beating me she lectures to me.

"You are both going to hell." She says it so matter-of-factly. "I wish you wouldn't do this Craig. I'm worried about your soul." Some days it feels like I don't have a soul. Those are usually the days I'm away from Tweek.

Without missing a beat I reply, "Then I'll see you there." Mom flips me the bird before driving away, u-turning, and speeding towards our house. To be honest I think the only one of the Tuckers _not _going to hell is Ruby. Maybe Grandma too. I don't really know her as well as I should to make a decision like that.

I stop in front of Tweek's house. It looms up like a fortress of misery. Before I started hanging out with him I never thought that there was anything different about this house from any of its neighbors. The only reason I ever enter is because I want to be with my boyfriend. Eventually I walk up to the door. Upon trying the handle, I find its locked.

Not a big deal if I have my key. But it got left behind in the rush of leaving. Tweek's parents don't know that I have a key to their house. Tweek insisted I have it so that I will have a safe – mostly – place to go. Those exact words weren't used but I knew this is what he meant. Previously I only used it in the late hours of the night to sneak into the house undetected.

Now I have to use the window. Outside of the blonde's room is a tree; the one that Kenny always uses to get in. I shimmy up it with ease – this is what I used to have to do, pre-key. Tweek is sitting in his chair by the window looking very lost in the dark recesses of his mind. When he sees me he leaps up and away about five feet. Rolling my eyes, I tap softly on the glass.

Tweek opens the window to let me in. He shivers and I realize just how cold it is outside. Quickly I shut the window before pulling him to me. It feels like he's trying to re-break my ribs. It feels like he thought he would never see me again. "Hey baby."

His reply is more of a mew than actual words. I can still smell the sex and pot on him. "What are – ack! - you doing here again?" His voice is muffled against my chest. Tweek's apparent lack of injury – I should say _fresh _injury – confuses me. He never just sends me _I love you _texts.

"I was worried." I reply. There isn't much point in worrying him any more than he already is. "Are you okay." He pulls back to study me with twin golden orbs. Sometimes its easy to forget that half the time he can only see with one eye.

Finally Tweek nods. "I want to draw you." He says. Usually its a phrase that he says when I have new wounds. Tonight seems to be full of anomalies. Tweek seems to cheer at the prospect of drawing me.

The blonde tells me to get comfortable. I take his spot by the window and help myself to a cigarette from the pack on the sill. His lighter is always in my pocket – even after a year I still haven't quite gotten around to giving it back – so I use that to light the cigarette. I'm glad I brought it. Dad knows I'm not into Chinpokomon. I wonder if mom has told that asshole that I have a boyfriend.

I look out the window at the snowy ground. The sun is down and except for a faint orange glow in the distance, the sky is a deep blue. With the thick clouds in the sky the moon is blocked, casting everything in dark shadows. I imagine running through the woods towards someone I love and fear. It's a strange thought and a stranger feeling so I turn my attention to the fag between my fingers. The nicotine flowing through my system calms my racing heart.

When my heart slows and my mind is more or less sound, I turn my attention to the sketching blonde. The only sound is Tweek's pencil against the thick paper of his sketchbook. He is in his own little world that I'm somehow involved in - being the subject - yet not privy to. Still, I can see an unnatural tension in his shoulders. I might as well get the unpleasantries over with. "Did she hurt you."

For a minute Tweek ignores me. Judging by how much he is erasing I know that he heard me and is buying for time. My heart physically aches. "I-It's not like she usually does." I raise an eyebrow in question, see the wonder flit over his face. Thankfully there aren't any bruises on my lovers handsome face.

A sigh comes from the blonde and with it emotional baggage. His golden eyes meet my silver ones. "She - gah - hates me." His voice cracks on the word _me_. I frown, waiting for him to explain. "She keeps saying weird things, Craig."

As though clearing his head of bees the blonde shakes it. He chews on his bottom lip, staring at his sketch. I notice that he doesn't have any coloring materials. After a few minutes of tense silence Tweek looks at me. His eyes hold an expression I have never seen on him but it scares me. "I don't think I-I'm going to..."

Something in my face must have made him stop because Tweek trails off. He looks down at his sketch again. "Use color on this." He finished lamely. My blood runs like ice water through my veins. _Please don't die._

The words unsaid hang in the air like hummingbirds suspended over a flower. They charge the room with electricity. I flick my ashes into the snow as an excuse to look outside. Really, I should be filling my sight with him. But that's too much like trying to memorize him for when..._it_ happens. "I think she loves you, in her own way."

From the corner of my eye I see my boyfriend shake his head. The scratch of his pencil continues. We aren't finished talking about awful things yet. I hate bringing this stuff up, but a part of me has to know. "You take anything lately." Tweek gives me what I've come to know as his best glare.

It makes me squirm on the inside. "Only the weed we had earlier." His voice is hard, angry. I ignore it. Not a minute later he sets his materials down. "Y-you can move."

I get up and stretch. My finger tips brush his ceiling. When I'm thoroughly stretched I walk over to see what he's drawn. It's always strange seeing images of myself. Tweek is good at capturing what I see in the mirror. This picture of me sitting by the window smoking is dark with thicker lines than usual.

I kiss the top of his head, smell his honey and oats shampoo. "It looks good." Tweek doesn't need to be praised for his artwork; he's good and he knows it. But I like to remind him and let him know that I think highly of it.

With a grin, Tweek tilts his head to look at me. "You're only saying that - nngh - because it's of you." I can tell he's pleased. I lean down to brush my lips to his. Tweek tastes like coffee, mint toothpaste, and an ashtray. Honestly I still don't like coffee and even though I have the ashtray taste too I don't like it.

But kissing Tweek and the mint toothpaste kind of make it okay. At least he hasn't asked why we aren't sucking tongue all the time. I have a suspicion that he doesn't care much for the taste of my mouth either but he never hesitates to kiss me. When we part I say, "I bet you could draw me with your eyes closed." A sheepish smile spreads across his face.

It really is good to see him without a battered and bruised face. "I might have – ack! - already done that." I stare at him. "Okay, I did t-try to draw you with m-my eyes closed." He squirms under my steady gaze. On the inside I'm smiling.

Grumbling to himself the blonde gets up and pulls out a sketchbook I haven't seen before. He flips through the pages until he comes across one near the back. "You were sleeping." Tweek hands it over. I'm the only person he willingly hands his sketchbooks to and I feel a familiar warmth. I look down at the sketch.

It's decent for having done it with his eyes shut. A lot of parts overlap each other but once you get past that you can basically see what it's supposed to be. "It's okay." I say honestly. If I had been trying to draw him with my eyes closed – not that I can draw at all – I would have been lucky to even find the paper. A shrug is the only response I get.

Tweek replaces his sketchbook in one of the many boxes that occupy his closet. When he returns he looks exhausted. I feel the same way. It seems like the shadows around his eyes have gotten darker, like his pale cheeks are more sunken in than normal. My buzz is pretty much over so I am noticing things again. I can't believe how well Tweek functions in spite of all the drugs he puts into his system.

He reaches up on tiptoe to kiss me. I kiss him back then nuzzle his neck. The delicious shiver that goes through him awakens a desire in me. Parting my lips, I breathe against the sensitive skin. My tongue slides a damp trail from just beneath his ear to his collarbone. Tweek's exhale is shaky.

The blonde offers more neck. Another full-body shiver erupts when I graze his flesh with my teeth. "Harder." Tweek moans. I comply while letting my hands wander. If I let him, he'll keep urging me on until he's bleeding.

Tweek pushes off the floor, throwing all his weight onto me. We just barely land on his bed. I let out a silent sigh of relief. Tweek is kneeling on the bed beside me looking like he's aching for my dick to be inside him. After I get comfortable I unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper down. His member springs to alertness.

I free him from his boxers and jeans before pulling him on top of me. His hands work at getting my double layer of clothing off without getting off of me. Eventually we succeed in having both of us undressed. I've just wrapped my hand around his hot smooth shaft when we hear a creak outside his door. Both of us freeze. Tweek's eyes are two huge golden pools of fear.

Before either I or the person on the other side of the door can do anything, Tweek is across the room and has locked the door. "I'm s-studying!" He calls through it. A muffled response comes from the other side. "Yeah. G-good night dad."

He stands beside the door for a moment longer with his ear to it. Then the blonde turns back to me with a small smile. "Dad says – argh! - good night." I let my head fall back onto the pillow with a loud sigh of relief. Tweek returns to my side to kiss me but he can't stop smiling so its a strange kiss. "Where were we?"


	3. The One And Only

The thing I love most in the world – other than Tweek – is waking up in the morning next to him. Specifically that moment before I remember what our lives are like. I nuzzle my cheek against his messy light blonde hair. His familiar smell makes me feel safe, which is something that rarely happens anymore. _Don't think about it._ I command myself.

Too late. The memories of injuries and tears come flooding back. _Oh God what am I doing?_ Should I get him help? No, Tweek would never forgive me if something happened to his mother. I wish he didn't love her like he does.

From outside his room, I hear the floorboard creak again. The door is still locked from last night so I don't worry about it. That is, not until I hear a strange hissing noise. Slowly I sit up in bed, staring hard at the doorknob. "Tweek!" I hiss, gently shaking him awake.

"I'm awake." He whispers back. Glancing behind me I see Tweek hunkered down on his toes and fingertips. His eyes are large and staring. "Y-y-you should l-leave." Tweek lets out a soft whine of distress.

My eyes are drawn back to the door. "I'm not leaving you to face her alone." I reply curtly. Is it just me or is the knob taking on a strange shape? Suddenly I understand what's happening. Mrs. Tweak is melting the doorknob.

I guess that's what mothers desperate to get into their son's rooms do if they can't beat their way through the wood. Unconsciously I shiver. There hadn't even been a hint of my father in those drunken eyes. Being as quiet as possible I pull my clothes back on but I have no intentions of leaving my love to her madness. "Please, Craig. I-I don't want – nngh – you t-t-to hurt h-her."

Anger boils up just as cheap metal starts sliding down this side of the door in liquid form. Mrs. Tweak pushes open the door with her foot. For some reason the bunny slippers throw me off guard. "Tweek, darling." When we first met I hadn't been able to sense the insanity but now its as tangible as the table beside me. Her green eyes fixate on me.

"Craig." Her voice deadpans. I'm not so sure she likes me anymore for the very reason she used to like me. Because I make her son happy. "Would you excuse us? Tweek and I need to talk."

I don't move an inch. "No." Her eyes narrow. In a year she's come to think of me as part of the family, I guess, because she's giving me the same look she gives Tweek before she does something destructive. Without taking her eyes off me, Mrs. Tweak snatches up the only photo ever of Tweek and I off his desk and rips it into tiny pieces. Behind me Tweek lets out a pitiful mew.

"Whatever you have to say to him I'm going to find out regardless." I continue. Normally I'm not so talkative with her. Buying time is really the only thing I can think to do. I wonder if Tweek would forgive me if I hit her. "We share everything."

Her expression turns curious and dark. "Is that so." It's not a question. Mrs. Tweak looks indecisive as she stands in the doorway. Finally she smiles. "We'll talk later sweetie."

When she leaves I close the door and slide Tweek's desk in front of it. Painfully I'm reminded of just last night when I was barricading my own door. When I turn around Tweek is on the floor with the scraps of our picture in his hands. Tears make tiny streams down the sides of his face. I kneel beside him and put an arm around his shaking shoulders. "It's okay baby."

Even though I say its okay, I feel the loss as well. That was literally the only picture ever of the two of us. And it was destroyed in a matter of seconds. _And for what?!_ Because his mother is batshit insane and wants to hurt my Tweekers. "We'll take another one."

It won't replace this one. Tweek's reply says as much. "It's just not the same, Craig." He holds the ruined picture to his chest and I know that he will die before he throws them away no matter what condition they are in. At a loss for what to do, I kiss the side of his head. Still clutching the photo, Tweek tears away from me.

He sits at his desk, gently setting the pieces down, and flips to a fresh page in his sketchbook. As he begins to sketch I wonder how often he looked at that picture while I was gone. Quietly I get up and sit in a chair beside him to watch. His expression is one of determination and desperation. Tweek's first sketch is only a few light lines on the paper. After several times he has enough detail to satisfy him.

Shading is added. When he shades he does it with small circles instead of the long lines that I normally use on the rare occasions I draw. That's why he's the artist, I suppose. Eventually my butt starts to hurt so I get up from the wooden chair to lounge on a beanbag chair. I flip open my phone, see three unread text messages. One from Ruby, one from Clyde, and one from a number I don't recognize but has a South Park area code.

Ruby: _I'm at Karens._

Clyde: _Ur house was on the news! R u ok?_

Unknown: _Is she going to be alright?_

I puzzle over the last text for a few minutes. It came at 6:03 this morning. It's now 8:45 am. Someone could have gotten a new number but why wouldn't they say who they are? If its one of Ruby's friends they could have mentioned a name. It's not like I know who she hangs out with other than Karen and Ike Broflovski sometimes.

In the end I decide to ignore it. If they really want me to know who they are they will try to contact me again. I send quick texts to Ruby and Clyde, assuring them both that I'm okay and asking Clyde about my house. It's unsettling to think that my parents might be on the news. What if they got arrested? What if one of them is dead?

That is too much to hope for. Clyde sends me the channel its on right now. I turn on Tweek's TV and flip through the channels until I find it. Mom is being interviewed right now.

Reporter: _"Where were your children when this happened?"_

Mom: _"They were staying with friends last night."_

Lying on national television. Staying with friends as if we weren't going to have the shit beat out of us if we had stayed. As I'm wondering where dad is, he stumbles into the screen. Mom nearly falls over from the force of his shove. He looks red in the face, like he's still drunk. He probably is.

Dad: _"It was just an accidental fire. The only room that burned was our sons. We think he might have left something lit." _

I feel myself bristling. I've _never _left anything lit in the house. I wasn't even there for most of the night. "I wish you had gone up in flames asshole." I tell the image of my father. Then something occurs to me.

"Stripe!" I leap to my feet, about to race out the door. Then I catch sight of Tweek staring at me and remember his mother. Tapping my fingers against my leg, I debate what to do. If Stripe II is gone then not only will it have been a wasted trip, but I will leave the blonde exposed. "We're going to my house."

I decide. Tweek looks down at his drawing then at me again. Golden eyes focus on something behind me. "Okay." Without another word the blonde gets up and pulls on his jacket. He puts on a rainbow scarf that I've never seen before and joins me by the window.

It's better if _she_ doesn't know that we have left. Who knows what other precious things she will destroy. We exit out the window. When my feet hit the ground I start running in the direction of my house. Tweek is hard on my heels. It is not a long run.

There is a crowd in front of my house, and news reporters. When they see me, everyone turns towards me. Behind me I feel Tweek grab the back of my jacket. I flip everyone off with both middle fingers as I scan the crowd for someone I know who will tell me what the fate of my Guinea pig is. Ruby is standing beside mom, staring up at the blackened hole that was my room. I turn to Tweek.

"Can you stay here alone." I ask him. I'll be lucky if my parents haven't noticed that we arrived together. My dad is still talking to the cameras, mom seems to have had her back turned for a while. Tweek's safety isn't something I'm willing to leave to an off chance. He gives me a strange expression that I can't read before making a quick shrugging motion.

I jog over to my mother and sister. "Is Stripe okay." Are the first words out of my mouth. The answer becomes clear when Ruby turns to look at me. Her teal eyes are twin pools of sorrow and pity. My best friend is gone.

Dead. Burned to death or too much inhalation of smoke. The ground lurches beneath my feet. Because of _him_. I feel my face contorting into an expression that would put a demon to shame. "What did he ever do to you?!"

I scream at my father from across the yard. I don't care that there are dozens of pairs of eyes on me. From behind me my mother gasps. As if she can't believe that I could ever be mad at that asshole who spawned me. "You _fucking dickhead what did Stripe ever fucking do to you_?!" My hands are curled into trembling fists.

My father's expression doesn't change. He regards me coolly for a moment before turning back to the cameras. "I didn't really want to tell anyone this but I think its going to get out anyway because of the fire. My son is a heroin addict." _What? Did he really just say that?_

I want to punch him in his lying fat fucking face but I catch sight of Tweek. His hands are covering his mouth, eyes wide, face beat red. It looks like he's going to start crying. Not because _I'm _the one who does heroin, but because _he_ is. Even though I should go punch that idiot father of mine in the face – or maybe the balls – I don't. Instead I go to the blonde and grasp his pale hands in mine.

Golden eyes stare up at me swimming with emotion. "I'm sorry." He whispers. I just shake my head. It's not really okay. None of it is.

Tweek pulls me away from the crowd. My eyes are glued to the wet sidewalk. I can't believe that Stripe II is gone. I was expecting him to be around for at least four more years. Him being gone before then never even crossed my mind. "Craig."

We've stopped walking. I force myself to look up. Starks Pond is abandoned. Tweek takes my face in his hands, forces me to look him in the eye. "Do you – nngh – want anything?" For a moment I stare at him, wondering what planet he's been on while this has happened.

Then his meaning clicks. _Do _I want anything to dull the edge of the blade twisting around in my heart? Tweek is patient, unnaturally still and quiet. Slowly I shake my head. To my surprise a half smile turns up the corner of his mouth. "What."

His smile is full blast now even though there really isn't anything to smile about right now. Or ever again. "I'm glad y-you aren't going to – ack! - end up like me." For a second I forget about Stripe II's death. He's serious. I embrace him.

"Oh baby," But that's all I can think of to say without offending him. I don't want to be like him. Twitchy. Addicted to just about everything under the sun. Hurting on the inside more than on the outside.

Tweek gives me one of those hugs where I think he's trying to melt into me. "What are you going to do w-when I die?" His breath is hot on my neck. My heart skips a beat. I only allow myself a moment to imagine life without my boyfriend but its enough to make the grief I feel multiply tenfold. Without thinking I hold him tighter.

I try to nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck. The pastel rainbow scarf is in the way. I won't cry even though I feel like I could. "Don't die." Tweek doesn't reply. I hate how much he talks about dying.

We stand there in the quiet of the wilderness for what feels like ever. My back is starting to hurt and my ears are cold. I realize that my hat must have burned along with everything else in my room. Along with my very best friend. The one I could tell everything to. When the shorter teen shifts I loosen my hold on him enough to look him in the face.

"Are you okay to go home alone." I need to be alone. To think. To mourn. "I'll come back tonight." I promise.

Tweek has to stand on tiptoe to kiss me. I've always thought that his being so short is really cute. Well, not always. I didn't give Tweek much thought before we were dating. "I love y-you." Then he's walking away, an unconscious seductive sway to his hips.

I almost consider calling him back but I really do need to think. After brushing snow on the bench, I sit down to think. Well, actually, to plot. What can I do to my father that will make him regret killing Stripe II? There's no way he could have _not_ planned on my pet dying when he lit that fire. Leaning forward, I rest my forehead on my knees.

Its not a comfortable position but I feel a need to suffer some. Death by fire or death by smoke inhalation are both terrible ways to go. And to be so afraid before, especially with your best friend gone. I should have taken him with me, at the very least drop him off at Token's house. It suddenly occurs to me that there is now no need for the Guinea pig cage in my second room. I wonder what he's going to do with it.

The only thing dad cares about is his booze and the family image. What can I do to destroy his idea of the perfect family? More or less he's already destroyed my reputation by saying I'm a heroin addict. How does that even explain how I started the fire? I shake black hair out of my eyes. Maybe he was trying to say that I'm unstable because of the drugs.

_But why that drug?_ Could he have seen my video journals? No, he would have flipped his shit a long time ago if he had. To my surprise my face heats up as I think of some of the things I've done with Tweek. Things that I talked about and was blushing scarlet through the whole time. They aren't particularly strange – from what I know – and I'm not ashamed but they just _do _something to me.

"Get back on your train." I scold myself. What if I come out of the closet as Tweek's boyfriend. It seems like my parents are the only ones who _don't _know. It makes me think of the Tweaks. Mr. Tweak more or less ignoring us – not in a dickish way though – and Mrs. Tweak unable to stop smiling. Now he looks at me with pity and she with insanity.

Guess I'm part of the family. For a moment I consider actually doing heroin. Tweek offered me some to dull the pain. Is that all it would dull? I've seen people on drugs and I don't like it. Give me weed any day.

Would I be able to do it once – maybe in church to make it sting more – and quit? It seems like a bad trade to ruin my body and mind for the revenge. As it is, I take enough abuse. My fingers curl into fists. The urge to hit something overtakes me but there isn't anything to really hit. Instead I uncurl my fists and run my fingers through my dark hair.

Hours pass and I'm no closer to a good idea for revenge than I was before Tweek left. What would Tweek do? I remember him throwing the apple pie at the wall. Mrs. Tweak would have been angry when she discovered it. It's not quite an eye for an eye though. Would dad care if I lit his room on fire and destroyed everything in it?

A dark thought crosses my mind. What if I kill mom? Let her burn in their room because she deserves it just as much as he does. Maybe I should kill _him_. I don't love my parents but I think Ruby might. Should I put her through that?

We would be put in an orphanage. I would get out in about two years, but Ruby still has a while to go before she turns eighteen. Finally I decide to put a pin in it and come back later. Maybe I'll even ask Tweek what he would do. When I finally get up I'm stiff and a lot colder than I originally thought. I pull out my phone to call Token.

"Hey man, come pick me up." He asks where I am. "Starks Pond. We need to pick Tweek up too." I don't want to stay there tonight so it is going to have to be Token's house. Thankfully no one seems to mind that Tweek and I spend the night so often.

Token's parents are usually on vacation. They have retired with a large sum of money stored away just for the purpose of getting away from everything. They are the only parents to have done that so far. It takes the noirette fifteen minutes to pick me up. "Should I keep it?" Are the first words out of his mouth.

They remind me that I'm never going to see Stripe II again. That reminds me that I'm never going to see Stripe again. I thought that was laid to rest a long time ago. I just shrug and light a cigarette. We go straight to Tweek's house. From the look of it every single light is turned on.

Before I can even get out of the car, Tweek is racing out the front door towards us. He's only wearing a pair of ripped sweat pants. Barely stopping to open the door, the blonde dives into the car. "D-d-drive!" he orders Token.

Token looks freaked out. He doesn't need to be told twice. In a matter of seconds we are speeding down the street, going 60mph in a 20 zone. It comes as no surprise to me when red and blue flashing lights appear in the side mirror. The noirette beside me curses as he pulls to the side of the road. "Oh not this dumbass."

Token grumbles when he sees the cop get out of the squad car. Its Officer Barbrady. He has got to be the stupidest cop in the state. I flick my cigarette out the window; I'm still under the legal smoking age. "If anyone has any drugs or sarcastic comments, keep them to yourselves." I roll my eyes towards the window.

Officer Barbrady knocks on Token's window. The dark-skinned teenager rolls it down. "Do you know how fast you were going?" He asks. I ignore the exchange until I hear my name. "I see you have Craig Tucker in there."

I fixate my silver eyes on him. From the back seat I hear the squeak of leather as Tweek moves. "That's not Craig Tucker." Token replies coolly, "It's Damien Thorn." As if the son of Satan would ever get into a car with Token Black.

Sweat visibly breaks out on Officer Barbrady's fat face. "Oh. Well. Move along, then." He does a half turn. "But go slower."

Token rolls the window up. We watch the cop get into his car and drive away. Once he's out of sight Token drives off. This time he actually goes the speed limit. It feels like we are crawling along. "Damien Thorn?" I ask.

"Shut up. He was the only other dude with black hair I could think of on short notice." Token pulls into his driveway. "The idiot can't even tell the difference between you two." From the backseat I hear a soft sigh that could be a secret laugh in the dark. Or it could be that my boyfriend is injured.

"We don't look anything alike." For one thing, Damien is a whole hell of a lot paler than I am. His face is a different shape. And his eyes are blood red. We have different hair styles too. Token parks the car without saying anything.

He doesn't get out. I look at him. His brown eyes are staring straight ahead. If I didn't know any better I would think that Token is not coming in with us. I have mixed emotions about this, as if more of those are what I need right now. "Spill."

Used to obeying me, he replies, "I'm spending the night at Dylan's." I don't bother to hide my frown. My friend is spending way too much time with this Goth boy. Token turns his head to look me in the eye. "It's serious, Craig."

"That's a s-stupid phrase." Comes from the back seat. "Why would – nngh! - you go into a relationship being anything _but _serious?" Both of us turn in our seats to look at Tweek. He's looking out the window, chin resting in his palm. There is something about him that upsets me but I can't put my finger on it.

No one says anything. Tweek gets out of the back seat. I'm out of the passenger seat a moment later. Almost before I can close the car door, Token is speeding away again. While I unlock my friend's front door Tweek stands shivering beside me. "How m-many house keys do you h-have?"

"You. Token. Clyde. Mine." The blonde bolts into the warmth of the house before I can stand aside. Something has him jumpy.

When I run my hands on his arms, I feel goosebumps. "D-did you know that they came out with a cheap – gah! - heroin in Russia?" Tweek asks me. He doesn't pull away but he doesn't get closer either. "It's called Krokodil and it makes your skin rot from the inside and fall off."

"Is that the Russian word for crocodile." Tweek nods. I study him. It doesn't look like he's about to lose his skin. Why would anyone want to take a drug that makes your skin rot and fall off? "What about it."

He pulls himself out of my grip. A frown tugs the corners of my mouth but I don't actually make the facial expression. "I was reading about it. Ack!" The blonde wrings his pale hands together. "Craig, I don't...don't know what t-to do for you. I've never – nnn – lost anyone I care about before."

I shrug. "That's not a bad thing." My eyes drift over the walls of Token's house. They look expensive and lived in at the same time. "Take a shower with me." I'm feeling a little ripe and wonder when the last time I actually showered was.

Surely it was sometime this week. "I'm high." Instead of the usual tiny pinprick of pain and betrayal, I don't feel anything. The death of my beloved companion is still too much. "I-I've been c-cutting down the doses by an eighth. So I'm – nngh – I'm on about half of what I was when you..."

I nod. Six months and he refuses to just go cold turkey. I don't blame him. If someone told me to stop smoking cigarettes cold turkey I would laugh in their face. "Come on." We hold hands on the way to the bathroom, silent support.

Token has the most amazing bathrooms and I'm just going to leave it at that. Except the shower is easily the best part. It's waterfall style with led lights. I can also plug my phone into it and it will play whatever music I have. It is also black granite. Literally, its the best shower I have ever been in, ever.

Tweek shimmies out of his black sweat pants. The second they hit the ground something starts vibrating. It doesn't sound like a phone. Tweek's pale face flushes light pink. I raise an eyebrow at him in question. Turning his back on me, the blonde kneels and searches for a pocket.

As if I can't look over his shoulder. I do look over his shoulder. The blonde is still looking for whatever. When he finds the object I stifle a laugh. That was my first immature reaction to seeing it. "Is that a vibrator."

Tweek jumps when I speak. He drops the bubblegum pink...vibrator. "No. I-Its not." For some reason my boyfriend having sex toys never even occurred to me. Probably because I don't have any myself.

"Then what it is." I challenge the blonde. Tweek stands up, still holding it. It looks like its made out of something weird; soft like squishy soft. "I was under the impression that you liked your dick hard." I tease with a small smile.

The events of today seem a million miles away. "Oh my g-god, Craig." Tweek rinses it off in the sink before setting it on the counter. "It has a – ack – setting that is supposed to make it, uh, similar." I don't particularly like the thought of a toy that can replace me. But its not like I can be there _every time _Tweek gets horny.

My brain produces a very _very _sexy image of Tweek using it and thinking of me. "Oh my – nngh! - god, Craig! D-don't _think_ about it!" I'm getting the feeling that toys are a rather personal thing if your partner doesn't know about them. When I look at his pale face I see that he isn't looking back at my face, he's looking down. "You are a toy virgin too?"

I strip out of my last layer of clothes. Leaving my other pair of clothes at Tweek's house isn't too big a deal as long as I get them back. In the meantime there are clothes here I can use. We get into the shower, closing the glass door behind us. I turn the knob and wait for the water to come. It takes a minute, during which Tweek inquires if it's broken.

Tweek's shoulders stiffen when it comes warm from the ceiling instead of cold from a shower head. Awe fills his golden eyes. Smiling, I push a button. The LEDs turn on and colors of the rainbow merge into each other. "Token makes me feel – argh! - poor." I nod because he makes me feel poor as well.

We use the shampoo and conditioner that is already in the shower. Neither of us smells like we usually do. At the moment I'm not complaining about me because I didn't smell so hot prior to the shower. If he noticed the blonde didn't say anything. Maybe he didn't notice. "What do I smell like to you."

Tweek picks up the shampoo bottle and reads the label. "Eternal Sunshine." He's grinning at me. Lightly I punch his arm. His grin gets wider. I wonder when the last time we fought was.

Physically fought, not that bitchy verbal fighting that some couples can't seem to stop doing. Tweek sways his hips to music in his head. Dancing in the shower may seem like a stupid idea but the floors are slip-proof. My eyes are glued to his pale, sleek body. _God, he's so fucking sexy._ Tweek dances over to me, reaches up on tiptoe to kiss me.

He sucks on my bottom lip while I run my hands down his sides to his butt. His skin is soft and smooth but a tiny voice in the back of my mind tells me that he shouldn't be this boney. His tongue prods, slips between my lips. I meet it with mine, dipping my head to give Tweek better access. Tweek is flush against me, still dancing and making a kind of humming noise in the back of his throat. It reminds me of our early days when he accidentally spoke out loud.

We never did find out if I can make that noise with his dick in my mouth. I retract my tongue and pull my head back a bit. Tweek's mouth goes straight to my neck. It feels so good my fingers curl on their own, causing my nails to dig into Tweek's ass. I crane my neck to bite his neck. The result is a full-body shiver and the heat of his erection on my skin.

Slight pain when I pull my neck free of his teeth. The blonde doesn't stop squirming but this is different from earlier; he's happy, relaxed. I trail kisses and nips down his neck, chest, abdomen. His piercing has healed perfectly; the jewelry is a bright blue. Tweek grabs a fist-full of my hair then backs against the wall, pulling me with him. A shiver works its way down my spine.

I've got a horrible gag reflex but I take as much of Tweek in my mouth as I can. I swirl my tongue around in circles. Tweek's hips buck. "S-sorry." He mumbles, drawing his hips back slightly. Slowly I pull away only to return to lick him from tip to base.

His lack of pubic hair is always somewhat surprising. I guess if its still that surprising we haven't been having sex enough. Being the little sex addict he is, I'm sure that he wouldn't mind more romantically intimate moments. Tweek's moans urge me on, I lower my head to lap at the tender sacs. I drag the tip of my tongue along the line of nerves down the middle, smiling to myself when the blonde whimpers. Although it would be easier to turn him around, I move a leg up around my shoulders to get access to an area my tongue has never been.

He mumbles something about germs then showers but doesn't attempt to stop me. Glancing up at Tweek, I see him in a full-body stretch. His fingers are hanging onto a built-in shelf, taking some of the weight off my shoulders and his leg. The blonde trembles, emitting delicious whimpers when I take too long. It takes a moment to find a good position but I finally do...and tease him by licking everywhere but the spot he's aching for. "Oh, g-god Craig."

Tweek groans. "You're such a-a fucking tease." There isn't any complaint in his voice. We have all night. Finally I give in. He tastes like tap water, which isn't all that bad considering.

One hand tangles in my hair and pulls, _hard_. My erection throbs in response. I couldn't stop the shiver if I tried. My tongue licks and prods Tweek's entrance; faster and harder, spurred on by the noises he makes. Suddenly Tweek yanks me out from between his legs by my hair. I growl with irritation but one look at his flushed, needy face has the noise dying in my throat.

As I stand up I rub my mouth with the back of my hand. I want to kiss him but I know Tweek wouldn't allow that until I brush my teeth ten times. Instead I settle for nibbling on his ear lobe, being mindful of his piercings. Tweek's breath hitches. His fingers find my nipples, rubbing and pinching. "Look whose talking, baby."

Gently I run my teeth over Tweek's boney shoulder. He squirms. "I...would never..." I find the spot on his neck that is extra sensitive and bite down. "Ahh.." Tweek's nails dig into my shoulder blades.

His dick twitches against my skin. It causes mine to do the same against his. Tweek curls his hand around my aching hardness. "I-I think this is g-g-going to ruin your – ooohh – mood..." That sounds promising already. "But I w-want to f-fuck you."

My first reaction is panic. There isn't a logical explanation for it since Tweek takes it just fine. He's been doing this for years too. I make an incoherent noise. Tweek's hand stroking me is making my brain fuzzy. "It will only h-hurt for a second, like getting you e-ears pierced."

His free hand touches the silver ring in my ear lobe. Reaction makes me pull him closer to me. Sometimes I forget how he gets when he's high. "Um..." That's about all I can get out right now. I watch the LEDs color his skin with a rainbow of color.

Tweek is giving me a hopeful yet stoned look. "Just once, baby." He pleads with me. "If you don't like it I won't ever do it again." I swallow. That's a pretty good argument.

"Now." I ask. His thumb runs over the head of my cock. My body acts of its own accord, pushing into his touch. Tweek gives a small shrug. "Maybe later."

The blonde contents himself with that. I lift him so he can wrap his legs around my waist. Tweek returns his hands to the shelf above us to relieve me of some of his weight – not that he weighs a lot. I push into him slow, groaning when my tip penetrates. No matter how many times we do it, he's always so wonderfully tight. "Ohhhh, fuck me."

I'm only too happy to oblige. His tight ass feels good around my dick, creating a mind-blowing friction when I thrust over and over into him. Tweek trembles, mews, lets out strings of incoherent noises. I hardly notice when one hand wanders down to stroke himself. When I suck on his neck, Tweek clenches around me. Release is upon me suddenly.

The blonde cums shortly afterwards. His shuddering release winds up on both our abdomens. We both groan as I ease out of him. For a few moments I stand there panting, resting my forehead against his shoulder. I have never loved anyone more than I love this crazy, gorgeous blonde in my arms. "I f-fucking love – ack! - shower sex."

Tweek comments. I let out a breathy chuckle. The steam and orgasm combined have made me light-headed. My boyfriend is patient with me, rubbing small circles between my shoulder blades even though I can feel him bursting with energy. "Why." I inquire.

"Easy cleanup." He answers with a smile that I feel more than see. We clean ourselves then I shut the water off. The bathroom is cold but the tile floors are heated, making it not nearly as bad as it could be. As we dry off, my eyes wander to the _thing_ on the counter. I had forgotten about it.

Almost as soon as he's dry, my boyfriend kneels beside his sweat pants again. He's digging in the pockets and I'm wondering what he's going to pull out this time. A cellphone. Tweek punches in his voice-mail password then puts the phone to his ear. I can't make out who the voice belongs to but they sure do sound frantic. When its over Tweek looks at me.

"I-I have to – gah! - go." He is quick to pull on his sweats and leave the bathroom. I growl at the cold air coming in and chase after him with a towel wrapped around my waist. "I think I'll be – nngh – back later." Tweek is already pulling a shirt on over his head. After giving me a quick kiss on the cheek my boyfriend runs off.

A moment later I hear the front door slam shut. In Token's large house I feel very, _very_ alone. I refuse to look in the corner where the unused Guinea pig cage is. I get dressed in a pair of red plaid pajama pants before wandering back to the bathroom to get my dirty clothes. The vibrator is still there, staring me down with its bubblegum pink weirdness. After brief hesitation I pick it up.

"Oh." Well, that's an odd texture. Squishy, yes. But also...agreeable? I find myself fingering it on the way back to my room. This may require further investigation.


	4. Bruises And Bitemarks

"You know I – nngh – love you, r-right?" Tweek murmurs in my ear. I nod whilst running my hand up and down his back. "I'm sorry for running out on you last night. Kyle was f-fighting again. I didn't – ack! - want you to see."

"So you were fighting." I guess. Tweek nods. I'm a little hurt he didn't invite me, actually."Did you win." As if I really need to ask.

The blonde sits up to relay the fight back to me. He looks so excited; breathless, eyes shining. Hearing about it gets my blood pumping. I barely notice the fresh bruises on his abdomen. In the middle of his telling of the third fight he was in, I grab his face and kiss him. Tweek bites my lip, hard.

I curse against his mouth. The tang of blood hits my tongue. Tweek pulls away just enough so that we can stare at each other. A slow, toothy smile spreads across the pale face. Right before he headbutts me in the stomach. The air _whooshes_ out of me.

I grab a fistful of platinum blonde hair, dragging him close enough to kiss then throwing him in the opposite direction. Tweek rolls onto his back, arms and legs in the air. I get out from under the covers because I see the _look_ in his golden eyes. My muscles bunch and I kick off the bed. Tweek rolls off the edge to dodge me. When I look over the edge he isn't there.

Behind me the bed sinks a little. Snapping my head up, I see Tweek crouched behind me in the mirror. He pounces, colliding with my spine. We tumble off the edge of the bed, him landing on top of me. The room isn't big so when I try to throw him off, the blonde hits the dresser with his left side. All I see is a pale blur before his fist connects with my jaw.

For a kid who doesn't weigh more than a buck twenty-five soaking wet, Tweek sure packs a punch. I ignore the pain. My fingers thread through his hair and I bash his head against the dresser. Tweek wraps both hands around my face, lifts my head up despite my attempts to stop him, and smashes it against the floor. The carpet offers little relief. We struggle with each other on the space between the bed and the dresser, just getting more frustrated when we can't move.

The blonde punches me again on the other side of my face. I catch him on the throat. Using my cheap shot to my advantage I slip out from beneath him while he's gasping for air. As I'm walking towards the door, fingers curl around my ankle. The floor rushes up to greet me. My nose hurts but I don't think its broken.

Tweek is on me so fast that I wonder if he was faking. Although I wriggle and scratch at the floor to drag myself out from beneath him, I don't budge and neither does he. He's much stronger than I give him credit for. All this is doing is wearing me out. I go limp, resting my sore face against the carpet. The blonde leans down, bites my back through my shirt.

Goosebumps break out over my arms. His teeth don't look particularly sharp but they _hurt_. I'm still because if I move they will do that much more damage. Tweek seems to be looking for a reaction though, because he bites harder. And harder. My skin is protesting.

To lean forward, Tweek had to take some of his weight off so he isn't holding me as hard as he was. I rip my shoulder blade from his jaws and drag myself mostly out from beneath him. My legs are still stuck when I hear heart-stopping laughter. It sends a chill down my spine because I've heard it before; coming from Tweek's mother. Suddenly it seems detrimental to get away. I twist onto my back and kick Tweek in the balls.

The laughter stops immediately, replaced by a hybrid of a whine and a growl. The hatred and anger in his eyes scares me. I tug my feet free, tear open the door, and pelt out of it at high speed. After running through half of the mansion I end up outside. My heart is pounding so hard that it hurts in my chest. Even to myself I refuse to admit that I'm scared of the little blonde.

I don't think I can love someone I'm afraid of; and it takes a lot for me to fear someone. I sink down out of sight beside the sparkling blue pool. The water has a thin film of ice on it. My hands are shaking as I take out a crushed pack of cigarettes. Its some fancy brand that Token's father smokes because I decided to never buy my own again. As long as I can help it, that is.

Tweek's lighter is still in my pocket. A few times we tried exchanging them again but somehow they always ended up with the person who _doesn't_ own them. For the first time ever, the cancer stick doesn't make me feel better. My heart is still going a hundred miles an hour and I wonder if I'm going to have a heart attack. If I do will I freeze to death out here? What if Tweek never finds me?

_What if he does find me_ We can't have a relationship like this. There has to be _something _I can do to help my boyfriend be at least a tiny bit normal. My therapist would say that there is anger in Tweek's soul. How do I placate his soul? I run my free hand through my hair.

I wonder if he was this bad before he met me. As cheesy as it sounds, Tweek is my soulmate. He's my other half. Did _my _anger somehow wind up in him? We both seem to jump from one extreme to the other; peace and then divine wrath. I think about Stripe II and can't seem to dredge up the same amount of anger at my father.

Could it really be because we're one soul? A chilling thought crosses my mind. _Will I die if Tweek does? _What happens when two people share a soul? There are too many unanswerable questions racing through my mind. To distract myself I watch a bird hop about on the other side of the large pool.

He finds me. He always does. When I look into his eyes he still has that same manic look his mother gets. I drop his lighter onto the stone ground. My cigarette follows suit. Then I'm on my feet charging him.

Tweek lets me hit him. We crash into the pool. The shock of the icy water jolts me into awareness and nothingness at the same time. For an endless stretch of time we float there beneath the surface. Then I'm at the surface, breathing in air that hurts my lungs. I can't stop shivering.

It's cold. It's cold. It's cold. Tweek comes up a half second after I do. He swims over to me even though I bet his limbs are starting to stiffen like mine are. Thin arms snake around my neck.

"I-I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry." Tweek stutters. I snake my arms around his waist to pull him close. There is no body heat between us. "M-m-maybe n-n-n-next t-t-time I-I-I s-should p-pour i-ice w-w-w-water o-on h-her. He's quivering like a leaf in the wind. Willing my limbs to move, I walk us towards the stairs.

When we get out of the pool, I pry Tweek's arms from around my neck. "I-I c-can't c-c-carry y-you." I offer as explanation. We lay on the cold stone in the cold wind in cold clothes for a second. It does nothing to give me back my energy. In fact, I think the cold is sapping it from me.

Tweek looks at me with glazed amber eyes. "I-I w-w-want t-to f-f-f-fuck y-you." I stare back at him, unaware of whatever emotions may be conveyed on my face. His voice begs me, "C-Craig, I-I d-don't h-h-have l-long." My heart aches.

"O-okay." And I pretend that the stutter in my voice is from the cold. I expect to see victory on his face but I don't. Its the sun that restores some energy, gives us enough pain in our limbs that we are motivated to move. Token's house is like stepping into a furnace. If I don't end up sick tomorrow I'll thank all of my lucky stars.

We limp to the nearest bathroom. Into the shower we go with our clothes still on. When the heat hits my body I let out a pained hiss. _"__Pain means you are alive." _Tweek says but he whimpers. Inhaling shakily, I pull the blonde close to me.

When we can feel our limbs we strip then turn off the shower. I'm nervous, which doesn't happen often. Even though I'm technically not going into this blind anymore. Speaking of which, I should probably return that vibrator. Heat rises to my face. I feel like I'm in over my head here.

After drying off we retreat back to my room. I stand, awkward and unsure of myself, near the door. Tweek glances at me but doesn't comment. He crawls into the queen-size bed and sits cross-legged. Observing me like I'm a new type of butterfly or something. I tap my fingers against my bare thigh nervously.

I'm not even sure what my nervous tics are. Is this one of them? Our first time together felt..._natural_ while this feels forced. _You agreed, Craig. _Why? That's the real question here.

But last night was, well, better than I expected after I dug up some lube from one of Token's dresser drawers. The lube that is now in my dresser drawer. Should probably get that out. I don't move. Now, I order myself. So I open the drawer and there they are staring me in the face, just promising me I'll have a good time.

Scowling at the lube and vibrator I throw the first at Tweek. He goes to catch it, fumbles, and curses. His depth perception must be off. This time I study him. The right side of his face is turned more towards me than the left. "Maybe we shouldn't-"

The blonde cuts me off. "Craig, if you don't w-want to then just – ack! - tell me." He sets the tube of lube aside. "I," Tweek looks at the blank wall for a few seconds then starts over, "I feel like...like I don't have a-a lot of – nngh! - time left."

I feel it too but I don't say anything. "Please, just once b-before I die." He whimpers and gives me puppy eyes. This is peer pressure. I cross my arms in front of me, feeling somehow less exposed even though I'm still bare-ass naked. My head rolls back so that my eyes can stare at the ceiling.

There needs to be answers up there. On all ceilings, actually. _Just calm down, its going to be fine._ I don't know why this bothers me so much. When I sigh, Tweek gives an excited whine. "That wasn't a yes."

But it was. As I sit on the bed beside him, I get the distinct impression that Tweek wants to jump me now. He's got a full-body quiver going on that is vibrating the bed but he behaves himself. Tweek leans forward then spots a few inches short of my mouth. Clearly he wants a kiss. I lean forward the rest of the way.

We alternate between kisses that bruise and butterfly kisses. Tweek nibbles down my throat, across to my collarbone, and down to my nipple. His mouth leaves fire and electricity in its wake. My dick twitches as blood flows south and I think of being inside my boyfriend. Tweek grinds against me, skin-to-skin. Then I remember that he's going to be the one inside me.

My breath hitches. "Shh...Its okay." I can't imagine Tweek saying this to anyone else before fucking them. "R-relax. Nnn. Just think a-about whatever you did last night."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. But Tweek doesn't make his metaphorical move. We kiss until my tongue starts bleeding from being cut on his teeth. I don't mind it, I'm used to it. Groping for the bottle of lube, I shudder against Tweek. He finds it first, hands it to me.

I squirt some onto my palm to simultaneously stroke our hardened cocks. Tweek's pale hands trace patterns along my chest and neck. He maneuvers them through my dark hair. We kiss more. I keep up a slow, steady pace with my hand. Before Tweek this was it, just my hand.

Suddenly he pulls away from me. I let my hand fall onto my thigh. Tweek hums some song I'm unfamiliar with while he snatches up the discarded bottle. He sways in time while he sits back, pouring out a generous amount of the clear liquid. He seems so much calmer than usual until I look closer and notice his heart frantically beating in the dip of his throat. "Nervous."

I ask and confess. Tweek keeps humming. "Excited." He replies with a smirk. "Its hard not just, w-well, shoving my dick up your ass and pounding you into the mattress." My jaw drops.

The blonde rarely ever talks dirty. I think I like this though. A ghost of a smile makes Tweek's smile wider. He keeps humming. I have to consciously think about _not _talking so that I don't run my mouth and betray how I'm feeling. Beneath the nervousness I'm as excited as Tweek.

"Uh, do you wanna use a condom?" That's pretty much the first mention of rubbers. When we started to date I thought about buying some before we had sex but the price kind of scared me off. It's not like I have a job to support my sex life. I shrug, unsure. For once Tweek is the one in command.

Though now that I think about he's been taking charge since the beginning. Always telling me when to do what and how hard. "You're a dom, aren't you." Which would make me a sub. Sex is always fantastic so I don't have any room to complain about the label I just gave myself. Tweek shrugs.

"I don't really do the b-bondage thing." He glances at me with curious honey-colored eyes. "Did you h-have a revelation?" He giggles not unkindly. Suddenly I feel like my x amount of months experience is nothing. I'm a virgin all over again and this time I'm not even under the illusion of control.

"Maybe." I snap without feeling the anger. Tweek smiles at me. As he's leaning forward to kiss me I feel i_something_/i near my ass. While he kisses me, the blonde lets his finger just rub against my entrance. Its wet and warm and the more he teases me the more the _need _grows.

Then his finger is inside of me up to the knuckle but its not too bad because I did use the toy and he used a lot of lube. Another one is added. Still not bad. A third is inserted. I can't help but squirm. Tweek's fingers stroke until they find a magical source of pleasure tinged with pain.

The moan I let out has my face turning red. Tweek uses his free hand to stroke my throbbing dick. I'm on fire and it's fantastic. My hips buck up of their own accord, cock longing for friction. Through half-lidded eyes I see an uncharacteristic smirk on my lover's face. "Oh s-shut up."

Even though he didn't say anything I know Tweek is i_thinking_/i it. All of a sudden I feel _empty_. I don't try to stop the whine that builds in my throat. I feel him against me and push to encourage what I know is coming. Tweek obliges; pushing into me, slick and hot and _mmm_. There is no way a toy can replace an actual dick.

It just isn't possible no matter what they claim. Above me, Tweek is still as a gargoyle. No matter how much I squirm and push against him, the blonde doesn't move or stop humming that song. A song I'm beginning to think he's made up since I have a vague feeling of having heard this rift before. As if suddenly remembering that I'm here and that he's balls deep inside of me, Tweek leans forward and kisses my cheek. "Sorry – mmm – I didn't want to cum."

I feel desired in a way that I never have before. Unfortunately for me, Tweek's idea of movement is agonizingly slow. I'm dripping wet and hot for him, and my boyfriend is torturing me. "Tweek," I growl, "go faster."

He stops. I groan and let my head fall back onto the mattress. "O-Okay." And he pulls out, all the way. I whimper at the loss and my throbbing need. "Flip over."

"I was trying to – ack – make this more bearable for your f-first time." The blonde explains as I roll over onto my hands and knees. He pushes my head down and jerks my hips up. "But if you insist w-who am I to deny you?" My heart thunders in my chest. Tweek guides himself into me, head only, then thrusts.

I couldn't stop from crying out if I had tried. My fingers curl around the comforter. He pulls out and thrusts hard again. Pain and pleasure rocket up my back and down my legs. Precum drips from the head of my dick onto the bedding below me. Then I get my wish; Tweek fucks me fast.

It seems like he isn't even trying to hit my sweet spot, he just _is_. Colors and stars swim before my eyes. When I close them they are inverted. Tweek moves hard and fast, his nails dig into my hips. I'm hardly aware of when the pain recedes, I just feel like I'm drowning in ecstasy. Behind me his panting matches his thrusts and the moans that slip out.

My hand finds my neglected cock and I rub it in time to the mind-blowing bursts of pleasure. I feel my orgasm building quickly. Suddenly the sweetness of relief washes over me. My hand is sticky and I feel no shame in wiping it off on the bedding. I'm laying flat because all of a sudden I just don't have the energy to keep my ass in the air. Tweek moves with me, never breaking his rhythm.

I wince when he cums, claws cutting into my skin. I'm lucky he doesn't actually have claws. _Oh my god there's...fluid dripping between my thighs. _Is this how the blonde feels? I can't really complain except I think I'll be in some pain if I move. "We should stay here forever."

I inform the blonde when he collapses beside me. Tweek is looking happy, content. "I told y-you it wouldn't be – nngh – bad." Instead of answering I yawn and nuzzle into the comforter. "You c-can't fall asleep!" There had better be a damn good reason for this.

"Take me out on – ack! - a date." A date. Mentally I count the amount of money in my wallet. Four dollars. It's not exactly enough for a date. Tweek's golden doe eyes are pleading at me though.

_Ugh. I'm wrapped around his finger. _With a sigh I haul myself to my feet and ignore the pain in my ass. "Fine. Hang on. I have to get stuff."

Tweek gets out of bed and brushes past me to get to the closet. I appreciate his body; he's attractive even covered in cuts and bruises. My eyes wander down from his back to his butt then he turns so I get to see a profile. I stare at his thigh. "What is that." The blonde yanks a shirt out of the closet – nearly hitting himself in the face with the hanger – and uses it to not-so-subtly cover the stitches on his thigh.

Tweek doesn't meet my eyes. "I went – argh! - home last night." At this revelation I study him with a trained eye, looking for the bruises that look the nastiest because those are the ones that he took without fighting. There are several overlapping on his chest and back. "Look, its n-not a big deal."

All of the anger that I felt at my father about Stripe II flares up, this time aimed at Tweek and his mother for completely different reasons. "How is it not a big deal." My hands are shaking with suppressed rage. "How is that." I point to his stitches. "Or that."

I point to his burn scarred forearm. "Or that." I snarl the words, moving my finger up to his eye. "Not a big fucking deal." Desperation washes over me. For the first time in a long time I feel like I could cry.

Of course I don't. Tweek looks like I feel. "I can't!" It doesn't make sense yet it makes perfect sense. He buries his face in the shirt and makes one of his tic noises. "I love her, Craig, I don't w-want anything bad t-to happen to her."

I don't share his feelings. How could I possibly feel the same way? "But she's going to kill you." What am I begging him for? To turn her in? To never go back?

Both. I go him and kneel in front of him, ignoring the brief stabbing pain, and wrap my arms around his torso. "Let me help you." Tweek won't show me his face. I'm not sure I can stand to see it. "You don't deserve this."

Tweek moans. "Don't make me – nngh – choose." He's rocking back and forth in my arms. The desire to curl up in a ball and cry is strong which is strange because I've never felt like this before. Not even when dad beats me with his belt or pins me against the wall and punches me over and over. "H-how am I supposed to choose?"

This isn't going to get me anywhere. Still angry, but mostly feeling sick, I get up with a sigh. At random I pull a shirt off a hanger and slip it on; just a black band shirt I don't remember buying. Tweek slips into his, a red long-sleeve shirt with a hood, and a black pair of skinny jeans. They hug his ass in in a nice way. I put on black cargo pants then I leave the blonde to go raid Token's room again.

I doubt that my friend will mind if I borrow some money to take Tweek out on a date. I remove a small painting of Nichole – why does he still have this? - to reveal a safe. The combination is Clyde's birthday backwards. If it was in its proper sequence the brunette would have guessed it already. Inside is a large wad of twenties. There has to be about five hundred dollars here.

I take it all, shoving it in a side pocket. When I return to my lover, Tweek has his hands shoved in the front pocket of his thin hoodie and is staring at the empty cage in the corner. "You're taking this well. Gah!" He tells me. I hope he doesn't judge my reaction to the loss of my pet as how I'm going to react to him dying.

_I should help him. He'll hate me. But he'll be alive. _"I've lost pets before and I have other things on my mind at the moment." I reply. Slowly the blonde nods.

Instead of stealing a car, I decide we can walk. My car has probably been either trashed or sold by my father. We hold hands as we walk down the street. "What do you want to do?" Normally I would take him to another, larger town but being vehicle-less makes that difficult. In response Tweek drags me to Harbucks.

I've learned by now that he doesn't like to go to his father's coffee shop, Tweak Bros. I order a hot chocolate because I fucking hate coffee. Bebe doesn't even ask what Tweek wants, she just starts making it. "Kenny is fighting tonight if you – argh – want to go l-later?" I refrain from asking why I couldn't go last night when Kyle was fighting. Instead I just nod and steer him in the direction of the woods.

I don't make a big deal out of it when Tweek's hand suddenly opens. His coffee spills to the ground. It gets his shoes wet and stains the snow. Golden eyes stare at the ground for a moment. My silver ones stare at Tweek. Then we keep walking without discussing it.

Even though its three in the afternoon it is still chilly. We're both used to it. The sun is shining just enough to take the edge off the cold. Tweek talks to me about people he knows and is kind of friends with. His words, not mine. Dylan, Kenny, Bebe, Butters.

In return I tell him about my friends. Token, Clyde, sometimes Kenny, my cousin Red. Tweek's eyes widen when I tell him about kissing Red once and realizing that I was gay. "Are you sure i-its not just because she's your cousin?" I explain that yes, I'm sure. And that we didn't even know we were cousins until afterwards when I was going through my grandma's photo albums.

"We still laugh about it, sometimes." He asks about my grandma. I tell him that she sends me money every year for my birthday and Christmas. Tweek tells me that his parents are his only living family. He asks about Ruby. I tell him she's gay too but my family doesn't know.

He doesn't have to say that he is the only child of his parents. Tweek asks about my Guinea pigs and why I would want them. "They are cute and friendly. They listen well and talk back sometimes." The blonde gives me a look of disbelief. "I don't care if they are rodents."

He confides that he's never had any pets both due to his parents not allowing it and his own fear that they would get hurt. He doesn't elaborate about who would hurt them. "Are you afraid of yourself." Sometimes, Tweek whispers. The blonde tells me that sometimes he feels like a monster is waiting just beneath his skin to break out and cause mass destruction. Kissing him is the only thing I can think to do to show that I don't care if he ends up being as unstable as his mother.

Or worse. _Is this what Mr. Tweak feels for her? _I'm suddenly glad that we can't have kids. "Do you remember?" I do. "Beneath – argh - the willow."

Our stomachs make us return to town. I remember that I haven't eaten all day. Tweek tells me that he ate, but the food wasn't very good. His expression is completely blank. In the restaurant I refuse to sit across from the blonde. We share a booth and a gingerbread milkshake.

After dinner there is still time before the cage fight. "Wanna see a movie." I ask. The only thing that looks good is the new Riddick movie. We sit in the very back of the theatre, my arm over the blonde's shoulders and his face against my chest. On screen Riddick is having one hell of a day.

"That was a pretty – nngh – puppy." Tweek says as we exit the theatre. I nod agreement. The blonde leans against my arm. He's pushing me off the sidewalk. "We should get you a-another pet."

"What." I nudge him back. "No." Tweek pushes me again. "What are you doing. Where am I going to keep it."

"Token's house." Tweek replies without hesitation. A pale finger is suddenly in my face, but it's pointing across the street. Looking over, I see a pet store. The same one I got Stripe and Stripe II from. "C-come on – ack – it will be good for you."

I let Tweek drag me over to the little store. It's almost closing time but he shoves the door open regardless. I'm starting to wonder who is taking who on a date. We browse but their Guinea pigs don't speak to me like my previous furry friends did. "Craig!" Comes the excited voice of my boyfriend from across the store.

Tweek is on his tiptoes with his arm in a clear glass box, stroking something brown and white. "I-Its like touching a-air or something." Unconvinced that I'm going to enjoy this experience, I join him. Three rabbits look up at me. I reach in to pet one of them. They are so soft that it _is _like petting air.

"Well, this isn't too bad." I check the price. Almost fifty dollars. I'm not sure how much rabbits usually go for but I can afford this regardless. "We'd have to buy a home for it." Token is not going to like this.

Tweek is nearly bouncing up and down with excitement. "Yes! They are s-so cool!" He keeps petting the brown and white one. "Which one – gah! - will you get?" Aside from the multicolored rabbit there is a solid brown and a solid black one. With a half smile I point at the one my boyfriend has taken an interest in.

"We can share it." Tweek points to another sign that says they are all female. "Her." I've never owned a female rodent or a rabbit. I find an employee, pick out a cage, and pay. Ten minutes later I'm walking out carrying a heavy starter kit and Tweek is carrying a box with the bunny in it.

We walk back to Token's house and I've never hated his driveway more than I do in this instant. Food, bedding, treats, and metal get heavy quickly. Tweek keeps up a steady chatter to the rabbit, telling her how much she will like living with me. _Why do I feel like this is a goodbye? _I try to enjoy the evening and smile with Tweek but its difficult. "What will you name – ack! - her?"

I shrug. "I'll think about it." Tweek nods. Both of us watch the little bunny sniff around her new environment. When she nibbles on some hay I know she will be fine. "We still have some time."

"I want to – gah – get a tattoo." A what? Tweek is poking a finger through the bars of the rabbit's cage. "I've been – nnn – thinking about it for a-a while." It's not like I'm going to tell him no. "It won't be stupid."

"You know we're underage right." I clarify. Who is going to tattoo him this young? The blonde is nodding. He turns towards me and kisses me. "Okay."

Tweek knows I've got plenty of money to cover whatever it is he wants to get. To my surprise, the blonde leads me to Kenny's house. Kenny leads us through the mess of a shack into his room. The room doesn't look – or smell – much better. His bed is a mattress on the floor. In all the years I've known him, I've never actually been in McCormick's house.

"Hey cutie." Kenny kisses Tweek on the cheek. Jealousy rears its ugly head. To my relief Tweek leans away with a _I told you to stop doing that. _I put my arm around my blonde, glaring at Kenny's laughing blue eyes. "So what am I doing for you?"

He goes to the closet where he pulls out a machine. It's the only thing that looks new. Tweek slips out from under my arm and follows the other blonde. He whispers something that I can't hear. Kenny glances at me then nods. Tweek produces a piece of paper.

"Your sister is across the hall if you want to see her." Kenny tells me. Ruby? I feel guilty that I haven't checked up on her. I never even asked how she was taking dad's outrage. As I'm walking out of the room I see Tweek slipping out of his jacket and raising his shirt.

I trust that my boyfriend will be loyal to me. I knock on the door across the hall. "Hang on!" Karen's voice comes from the other side of the door. _Please tell me I didn't just interrupt them having sex or something. Ew._

It's Ruby who opens the door. Surprise is clear on her face. "Hey, Craig. Uh, come in." Looking past her I see Karen struggling with her bra. My sister runs over to help her, leaving me in the doorway.

_Well, I feel like a douche._ "Kenny didn't say you were coming over. Is Tweek here too?" Ruby asks me. If I didn't know Karen was already in the room I would have said that it was just me and Ruby. Karen has the ability to blend into the background.

"Yeah. He's getting a tattoo." I answer, sitting on a desk chair that seems to be missing its desk. Ruby raises a single orange eyebrow. "I don't know what its of. They didn't tell me."

My little sister laughs. "And then they kicked you out, right?" She flops down onto the bed. Sobering up, the redhead says, "I'm sorry about Stripe II." I wonder how long its going to hurt to think about him.

"I got a rabbit." I inform her. At this both Ruby and the McCormick girl perk up. I'm bombarded with question after question about the small creature I've adopted. When they settle down, I ask how long Ruby has been here. It's easy to forget about Karen, she's like Butters.

The girl shrugs. "About the same amount of time you _haven't _been home." I look around at where my sister is living currently. I'd rather take her to Token's. "It's not that bad, Craig." I feel like she is going to add something but then she closes her mouth.

"Are you okay." Ruby nods. There is a knock on the door then Kenny is waltzing in. I wonder how much privacy the girls get here. She gets up and hugs me. She smells like _girl_ and sweat.

Giving my little sister a half hug before leaving, I tell her to call me if she needs anything. Then I'm across the hall where Tweek is putting his shirt back on. I'm disappointed that I don't get to see his tattoo right now but its covered with gauze. "Did it hurt." I inquire. Tweek is positively beaming.

"Nope." It would have been pretty stupid to expect a different answer after all the blonde has gone through. Tweek, Kenny, and I get a ride from Stan to the cage fight. Tweek doesn't fight. I watch Kenny while he is in the cage. There is something strange about him that I can't put my finger on.

He's reckless, taking hits he could have easily avoided. We only stay for Kenny's one fight because Stan insists on hauling the unconscious blonde home. The noirette drops us off at Token's mansion. I'm somewhat surprised to find that my friend still isn't home. Tweek pulls me towards our bedroom. I've barely closed the door when he's on me, kissing me so hard it hurts.

In spite of the pain his kiss is full of passion and love. Tweek steals my breath away. He forces his tongue past my lips to rub against mine. I circle the wet muscle with mine, moan into his mouth when the blonde presses his slender body against mine. My hands find the hem of his shirt and the warm skin beneath. I try to force my hands down the back of his jeans but they are too tight.

Quickly I unbutton them and slide the black denim down his thighs. Tweek's hand snakes around to the back of my head and shoves it down towards his neck. I bite and suck lightly. "Harder." I just barely tighten my jaws on his skin. "_Harder_."

Something in his voice makes me pause to look into his eyes. They are warm as honey. "P-please. I want everyone to know you love me." I hesitate then sigh quietly. Something about today has me unable to deny my lover anything.

I bite down hard where his shoulder meets his neck. Tweek's body jerks against me. From his lips comes a long moan. I feel his skin resist then my teeth break through. Blood spills into my mouth. I try not to gag on the salty crimson as it dregs up memories I can't seem to forget.

Tweek is trembling and hard as a rock. He offers up the other side of his neck. One bite doesn't seem to be enough. Four similar bites later and the blonde is panting my name. There is a wet spot on my pants from the precum dripping from his member. His hands are shaking so badly he can't get my pants down.

Heat radiates off the blonde in waves. We could be outside in the snow and he would melt it. I help him with undressing me. He tugs me over to the edge of the bed then bends over presenting his perfect ass to me. I waste no time in taking him. The sex we have is frenzied but cannot by any means be considered a quickie.

When we've both orgasmed, Tweek curls onto his side on the bed. I lay behind him, feeling his heart jackhammer against my skin. Avoiding the wounds I made, I plant a few light kisses on his neck. "I love you, Tweek." I murmur into his hair. Tweek lets out a content noise.

"I love you too, Craig." It's at least an hour of us just laying there before Tweek rolls over to look at me. "I have to – gah! - go home." My heart stops. I kiss him, a silent plea not to leave me again. But he gets out of bed, dresses, and leaves me in bed alone.


	5. Of Blood And Ice

Monday morning. I'm still alone in my bed at Token's house. First things first, I feed the rabbit and pet her. She's very well-tempered. After getting dressed I walk over to my house to pick up the car. My charred room is still exposed to the elements. It doesn't get my high spirits down.

I drive to school in the car that grandma bought me. Its a sexy thing that makes me feel good driving it. For once I'm in a good mood. I almost feel like I'm on top of the world. The desire to kiss Tweek is strong. Maybe we can ditch school today.

Today is the day that I take that bitch down. Mrs. Tweak will probably go to the loony bin. Mr. Tweak might go to prison. I'm not sure what happens with spouses who don't stop blatant abuse. I don't know what will happen with Tweek but I'll make sure that we don't get separated. Maybe I'll finally get to see the blonde without wounds.

I park in my usual spot and scan the parking lot for any sign of my blonde lover. Nothing. Maybe he's already inside waiting for me. Taking the keys out of the ignition then clipping them to my belt loop, I get out of the black car. As I walk into the building I'm overcome with the feeling that something is _wrong_. The wrongness increases the deeper into the school I get.

It's like walking in a funeral home. Everyone is quiet except for a few whispers. Eyes burn into my back but I know without looking they aren't the amber eyes I'm searching for. Unease prickles my skin. The longer I walk the more openly they stare at me.

_Did I forget to wear pants?_ Glancing down, I see that isn't the case. I'm wearing black cargo pants held up by a studded black belt. Getting out my phone I send a quick message to Tweek, asking where he is. While its out I decide to send messages to Clyde and Token as well. By the time I get to my locker on the other side of the school there is still no reply from any of them.

There is no trace of my good mood now. In fact, I'm kind of getting panicky. Tweek's voice rings in my head. _"I want everyone to know that you love me." _He had said it so that I would leave marks on him that wouldn't fade in an hour. I lean my forehead against the cool metal of my locker.

Closing my eyes and slipping my hand into my pocket, I close it around Tweek's lighter. Even though it has been in my pocket all morning its cold to the touch. "Craig?" Kenny's voice makes me open my eyes. I look at him through my peripherals. There is a hopelessness in his ocean blue eyes that seems more defined.

"They haven't told you yet, have they?" I hate his pity. The way it drips from his voice and brands me in his expression. _I don't need your pity. _Then I think about what he says. Something unspeakable and painful happens to my heart.

I sense Kenny's hesitation and get irritated about it. There is only one thing in the world I care about right now. My voice sounds like I haven't used it in years. Just barely a rough whisper. I ask the million dollar question. "Where's Tweek."

Three little words change my life. "Tweek is dead." Without warning or even realizing what I'm doing, I shove Kenny against the lockers. He holds his hands out in front of him, ready to defend himself if I decide to hit him. "Craig, I'm not lying! They found him dead this morning!"

My body gives a twitchy jerk and I'm a step away from McCormick. _Dead this morning. Tweek is dead. This morning. I just saw him last night. I just kissed him last night._

Through the buzzing in my ears I realize that Kenny is still talking. "-in his backyard. It was gruesome. The things she did to him -" The buzzing blocks his words out. "-there is a special place in Hell for monsters like her."

The backyard. I take off at full speed through the hallways. No one stops me. It makes sense now. They all knew. I want to scream.

When I reach my car I scratch the paint on the door trying to get the key in the lock. Then I reverse it into another car parked behind me. It doesn't matter. On the way out of the parking lot I hit a sign that knocks off my passenger side mirror. _Dead. _I drive her as fast as she can go.

Three minutes later I'm falling out of the open door onto the sidewalk. My body screams protest against this abuse. I scramble to my feet. The car crashes into one in the driveway. _Hers. _I don't bother to use the doors, just leap over the fence.

In the grass I see the blood. So much blood. My legs turn to wet spaghetti. Its on my hands, staining them red. Do people actually hold that much blood inside them? For an absurd second I think about licking it; one last taste of my love.

Instead I put my hands to my face and _scream_. I scream at the heavens and the God who made Tweek's life so miserable before taking him away from me. At every single person who ignored Tweek's wounds. At myself for leaving him to her mercy, for not getting him help before it was too late. I scream about the injustice of the world. I scream my broken heart, the missing piece of my soul to anyone who will listen.

Someone touches me, halting my anguished vocalization. I jerk away from the hand of someone in blue. A cop. Too little, too late. Someone says to get me out of here. The hands aren't gentle when they haul me to my feet and drag me away from the bloodstain in the grass.

When they release me I'm swaying on my feet. My heart has never hurt so much. I want to tear it out of my chest. That would hurt less. Then I wouldn't feel anything. _Tweek is dead._

"I want to see him." Is that my voice? No one but me hears it. It sounds so strange. "I want to see him!" I shout when no one responds.

Someone tells me that I don't. My eyes see the blood again. That must have been all the blood in his body. We argue. My argument is only one line, "I want to see him."

They give in. I'm put in the back of a police cruiser. As I am I see someone else being dragged from the house, screaming. Mrs. Tweak locks eyes with me. "YOU COULD HAVE SAVED HIM!" I inhale sharply.

Then the door is slammed shut in my face. _What did she do to you, baby? _In my minds eye I see the blonde giving me a little half smile. Tweek's honey eyes are haunted, though, fearful. I reach out to touch him but he vanishes in a wisp of smoke. _Don't leave me. _"We're here."

Here? The door is opened for me. I step out, stare at the words _Mortician's Office_. "You sure you want to do this, kid?" All I can do is nod. The cop leads me through the door to hell.

Death is a disgusting stench. It makes my insides wither up like prunes in the sun. Tweek would hate this place. Tweek is dead. I follow without seeing. We make one stop then we're given access to a room.

It has two rows of silver doors. Freezers for the bodies? Only one body is currently on display. "I haven't done the autopsy yet." Bees drone in my ears. "-obvious the cause of death."

Even with a sheet over his head I know its Tweek. Even though there is a strangeness to his body, a point where it just i_ends/i_. My hand is trembling when I pull the white sheet back from his face. "Pretty bad, i-isn't it?" His voice is beside me. I don't look.

Bloody forehead. "She threw a bottle of B-b-baileys – ack! - at me, knocked me out." I lower the sheet further, see the love marks I had just made the other day. Tweek leans against me. I close my eyes. "Now they know that you love me."

"You knew." I whisper. I open my eyes. In a swift movement I rip the sheet off completely. And nearly pass out. His legs are gone just above the knee.

Both of them. The blood. Its still on my hands. The flesh is torn, she probably used a chainsaw. "While I was passed out. She dragged me outside."

Gently I touch his cold cheek. I think I'm going to throw up. "B-be strong." Tweek tells me. _I can't. _"Of course – nngh! - you can; you're Craig Tucker."

My fingertips trace the CT tattooed above Tweek's heart. My eyes find the bruise that extends from his left shoulder to his nipple. The ribs on his right side are bruised. "You were on it again." I note when I see the needle marks. Scores and scores of them.

"It was hard – argh – you know? L-living like that took a lot o-out of me." I purse my lips. Just below the needle scars and bruises is a gnarly nine inch scar. Tweek never did tell me what his mother did to him to produce a burn scar like that. Even after death he remains stubbornly silent.

My head spins. Black dots dance in the corners of my vision. I can feel his hands on me, steadying me. "You can do this, Craig." I don't think I want to anymore. "Do it for m-me."

Tweek was never darker than a few shades above paper. Now - in death and under the bright lights of the mortician's domain – he is so pale he's almost translucent. His thin left arm is wrapped in another bandage. Apparently it was shortly before his mother attacked him with the bottle of alcohol because there was blood seeping through the white bandage. "There was s-so much blood I thought it was never g-going to – ack! - stop." His breath tickles my neck.

His right leg has stitches in it. Six of them. I was waiting for him to come to me when Mrs. Tweak stabbed her son with a nail file. He didn't tell me until I noticed them. _And you said it wasn't a big deal. Would you still lie for her?_

"She's my mother." I shake my head. Mrs. Tweak dragged her son unconscious to the backyard. I bet his back has wounds as well. "It hurt really bad. B-But I'm okay now."

I feel his shiver of memory. When I turn to look at my boyfriend – the one speaking to me not the dead one on the slab of cold metal – he isn't there. No one is there. The cop and the mortician are still standing by the door. Their mouths are moving but I can't hear what they are saying. Its just about then that I collapse in a dead faint.

I don't dream. When I wake up I have a sense that time has passed but I don't know how much. Seconds? Years? What does it matter when the love of your life is dead? For the first time ever, I want to die.

"Don't s-say that!" Afraid that I'm just imaging him, I slowly turn my head to face Tweek. He's sitting perched on the arm of an armchair. His platinum blonde hair is in its usual disarray, the buttons of my black dress shirt are askew, there are no wounds on him that I can see. Large eyes the color of sunshine are fixated on me. _Is he real?_

I look at my hands. They have been scrubbed clean. Telling you where the bloodstains were would be easy. They are forever etched into my memory. "Why are you thinking – nngh - about stuff like that?" Tweek gets up, takes a few steps, and crawls onto the bed with me.

The bed dips under his weight. Not that he weighs a lot. Maybe a buck twenty-five soaking wet. When I touch his cheek, he's warm beneath my palm. "Did it really happen?" I ask.

The sadness in his eyes should be answer enough but I want him to say it out loud. "I'm dead, baby." I take his face in both my hands. He feels alive. "Y-you just haven't let me go yet." My fingers tangle themselves in his hair like they have a hundred times.

Suddenly tears spring to his eyes. "I-I love you." Tweek cries. I hold him. I feel like I should be crying but the tears just won't come. I don't think I'm in shock.

We knew this day was coming. Why didn't I get him help? "I love you too. So much. I should have said it more." He smells like the Tweek I love; coffee and cigarettes and something that is just _Tweek._

Tweek nuzzles against my neck. A sigh tickles the skin there. "You – gah - didn't have to say it more. I-I knew." We lay like that for a while. Even though the blonde teen is in my arms, there is still an ache in my heart.

Something is bothering me. I have to know the answer. Quietly I ask, "Was she right, Tweek?" Before he can answer there is a knock on the door. Tweek smiles at me before vanishing.

Token opens the door. I stare at him. Will he disappear too? But my dreadlocked friend doesn't vanish before my eyes. "Uh, who were you talking to, dude?" Without hesitation I point to the corner where my little white and brown bunny is munching away at some hay. Token shakes his head.

He doesn't enter my room. I don't think he knows what to do; I'm not like Clyde who lost his mother. I'm Craig who lost his lover. "How are you doing?" I refuse to justify that with an answer because there isn't a word to describe how deep my sorrow cuts into me. How can I expect him to understand that there are wounds in my heart that won't close and that I'm missing part of my soul?

"Uh, Kenny is here. Do you care if I let him in?" I think Token is trying to be a good friend by asking but in all honesty I don't care who is here. We wait in silence until I realize he actually wants an answer. I shrug halfheartedly. The noirette nods then closes to the door.

I look for Tweek but don't see him. Maybe he will come back after Kenny leaves. Speak of the devil, the blonde comes in. The only reason he reminds me of my boyfriend is because they were friends. Lovers. Maybe not lovers.

"Friends with benefits." My head snaps over to where Tweek is petting my unnamed rabbit. He's the one who picked her out at the pet store because her fur is so soft that it feels like you aren't touching anything. "He's giving you w-weird looks." Tweek jerks his head in the direction of the other blonde in the room. I turn my head away slowly, fearful that my blonde won't be there when I look back.

"Token says you are talking to someone." Kenny doesn't say sorry, doesn't express any sympathy or regret that Tweek is dead. It throws me off my game. "I don't think its the rabbit. Are you hearing voices in your head or something?" He throws himself onto the foot of the bed.

I don't answer. "If only he knew." Tweek laughs. McCormick looks like hell. There are deep shadows around his eyes, his face is sunken in. I doubt he's brushed his hair since...whenever.

"No." I answer truthfully without looking in Tweek's direction. Kenny sizes me up. When I think about the two of them together a lump of ice lodges itself in my heart. I suppose its like jealousy but, well, different because there isn't anything to really be jealous over. "I like the tattoo."

"It was your handwriting." He replies. I wonder how Tweek got my handwriting. Then I realize he could have stolen any number of my school papers and I would have been none the wiser. "I know you aren't okay, but don't do anything stupid." Kenny stands up to leave.

"Why did he go home." My voice stops him. "He knew she was going to kill him." Yesterday makes perfect sense all of a sudden. I'm glad that it was a good day last day for him. Mostly.

Kenny looks at me through the mirror. There is something in his eyes that I can't read. "Do you know how tired he was when he first came to me?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "Tweek was a kid ready to jump off the nearest cliff or overdose on any drug he could get his hands on. He nearly did a few times, too."

There is a lump in my throat. I didn't know he had tried to kill himself. Why would he tell me this depressing stuff from his past? We had enough problems in the present. "Imagine living your life every day with your mother trying to kill you and loving her so much more than she ever deserved. He wouldn't have lasted as long as he did if it hadn't been for you."

As soon as Kenny leaves I look over at Tweek. I don't even know what to say to him. "I told you that she was getting worse." The blonde whispers. He won't look at me. And I had brushed it off.

Tweek gets into bed beside me. The sheets haven't been changed. It still smells like sex and sweat. I don't think I'm ever going to change these sheets. I wrap an arm around the blonde and close my eyes. "Don't leave me."

Four days later. I can't believe its only been four days. I can't believe its been that long. The funeral is today. There is a big turn out, which surprises me. This many people never cared about Tweek.

I stand beside the closed coffin that contains the broken body of the only boy I ever loved. In my hand is a red rose. I spent an hour picking out the reddest rose I could find. Red like the blood I sometimes still see on my hands. I close my eyes and the breeze brings his scent to me. He's standing there beside me wearing white.

"We should have gotten married." Tweek touches the soft petals of the rose. I cover his hand with mine. He laces our fingers together. "I-I guess its too late to now. I think its - ack! - illegal anyway."

When I look at him he has no expression. I look at the coffin once more. Did they even bother to dress him up, cover the damage with makeup? Or is he still bloodied and bruised? "Are you even in that box?" I ask the blonde.

"You know that I'm dead." I know that he's dead. But what if this is just an empty box? Someone - Clyde - gives me a gentle nudge. I guess they think I have been standing here too long. I set the rose on the coffin and move along.

From the people who showed up and actually care are murmured words that express their sorrow and regret. If they meant it they would have done something beforehand. What does that say about me? "You made me happy." We are beneath a tree, not the willow he is going to be burried under, holding hands. I give his a squeeze.

Life is so unfair. I doubt Tweek had many good days during his time on earth. Love does strange things to a person. I used to think that my father is the one I wanted to murder more than anyone. Now I have someone else in mind. "Would you be upset if I killed her."

Tweek frowns at me. We watch them lower his casket into the ground. No one argued with me when I demanded he be burried here. "Dont waste your life in prison for killing my mom." I dont hear any of the old love for her in his voice. I dont think he would actually mind.

"What else am I going to do with my life." Over such a short time I made my life revolve around Tweek. Every free minute I had was spent with him. I neglected friends, family, schoolwork to be with him. "You are my everything. I dont have a life outside of you."

"You - gah - used to." The blonde points out. "Find someone new. You are too young t-to waste your life on the dead." But I'm already shaking my head. There is no life for me outside of Tweek.

"Typical." I hear him murmur. Tweek's hand is suddenly gone. I dont have to look to know the rest of him is too. I feel the ice in my heart grow. I want to tell everyone to leave because they dont belong here.

"C-Craig?" With effort I turn my face towards Butters. I dont remember him and Tweek being friends. Actually, I dont remember Tweek hanging out with anyone - without me being there too - except for Kenny. Then it comes to me: Butters was the first guy Tweek kissed. "If you need anything, well, just let me know and..."

Butters trails off. He plays with the hem of his shirt. "I'll do my best to help you." Now that someone has mentioned me to my face I wonder how many people are actually here for me. I know most of them are here for kicks. It makes me sick.

My parents didn't come. I'm glad. They have been leaving me alone for the most part. Partially because I haven't been home for them to bother. My room is still blackened to a crisp. I haven't been up there yet because there isn't anything I want to get out of it.

There are only two places that appeal to me now. My room in Token's mansion and Tweek's room. I haven't been in the later yet. The Tweak house is empty, covered in caution tape. No one has even bothered to get rid of the bloodstains. I know because I looked over the fence.

It was hard to work up the courage to even peek. For half an hour afterwards I was curled in a ball rocking and crying. The blood was stubbornly still there. Since the front door is boarded up the only ways I can get in are through Tweek's window – which is locked – or the back door. If I have to break in I will. But until then I just have to work up the nerve to enter through the backyard.

It takes half an hour for the graveyard to empty. The sun will be going down in a few hours. I return to the freshly turned over earth. Tweek has an actual tombstone because Token paid for one. His parents didn't have enough money to buy one and no one else would donate. It's a simple thing with his name, birth date, and death date carved into it.

My knees give out. I curl up by the stone, rest my cheek on the cold surface. Once they start, the tears just won't stop coming. The ache in my heart grows more and more painful until I want to tear the organ from my chest. I barely notice when the sun goes down. The temperature difference has no effect on the violent shaking of my body.

"Craig." Hearing his voice makes me hurt worse. I wish I died with him. Why didn't I die with him? "C-Craig, you have to get up." Tweek touches my arm.

I feel his warmth and lash out. "Go away! You aren't real!" I yell at the hallucination of Tweek. "I know you're dead! I saw you lying on the mortician's table."

His hurt stabs through mine. _Soulmates feel everything. _I think to myself. Why didn't I feel him dying? I didn't even know he was dead. I bash my head against the tombstone.

Pain explodes in my skull. I do it again. "C-Craig! Craig, please stop." He's kneeling beside me not touching me. "If you don't stop y-you're going to die."

I stare at him. In the dark like this he's just barely here. "If you love me, let me be with you." Tweek shakes his head. He gets up, backs away. When he fades into shadow I curl around his tombstone again.

Let me freeze to death out here. As long as I get to be with him. I don't cry anymore. My body hurts. I don't pray for death because I don't believe there is a God who will grant my request. Snow begins to drift lazily to the ground.

My extremities start to loose feeling. I wish my heart would. Would just stop beating. Forever. Even though the rest of me is numb, my heart is hot and cold and hurting. I don't think I'm shivering anymore, its hard to tell when you can't feel anything.

"Craig." I can't move my head to look at the speaker. The voice is distorted. "Shit, dude, why the fuck would you do this to Tweek?" When I try to open my eyes I find that my eyelids are frozen shut. Maybe I'm finally going to die. A pain like when you try to scratch through denim appears in my thigh.

"Goddamn it." Warmth. Pain. "You better not be dead. I told Tweek I would keep you alive, asshole." My eyelids blink open and closed a few times.

I see Kenny. Through the ice crystals clinging to my eyelashes he looks strange. New, almost. I hiss when the blonde picks me up. It appears I'm not completely frozen after all. Only a squeak comes out when I try to ask about Tweek.

I don't know where I am or how I got there. It's hard to focus on anything. This isn't like that time Tweek and I took an accidental dip in the pool. _Tweek? _"I have to get him warm. Karen, keep her out of here!"

Someone is yelling. It's warmer here than it was on Tweek's grave. My entire body hurts. It's a different kind of pain than I'm used to. This feels like I'm on fire. Someone moans, I think its me.

"Craig, listen to me." Someone holds my face. I force my eyes to focus. Kenny. "I have to get you warm." Behind him I see Tweek, staring at me with fear etched on his face.

I swallow what little saliva there is in my mouth to wet it. The action hurts. "D-don't look so scared, baby." Kenny glances over his shoulder. I know he won't see anything. "I'll see you soon."

"No you fucking won't." Kenny snarls at me. "You think Tweek wants you dead? Maybe you should try to fucking listen to a goddamn word he says." My limbs are aching. Its worse than any beating I've ever had.

I can barely concentrate on Kenny's words. The pain of my body coming back to life is so intense that I start laughing. The kind of uncontrollable laughter that only comes from extreme emotions. Suddenly I grab Kenny's face – amazed that my arms work – and stare into his blue eyes. This close, his breath smells like death. "Am I missing part of my soul."

The blonde pulls his head back from me. He eyes me, still doing whatever it is he's doing. I glance down to see him rubbing my thigh. "What?" Kenny frowns. "You and Tweek are two separate people."

I glance over his shoulder at Tweek. My blonde shrugs his shoulders. He still looks worried. "We're close – nngh – Craig. But I don't k-know about our souls." The thought seems to disturb him.

I reach out for my boyfriend. He doesn't come near enough to touch. "Please don't do that again, Craig." Tweek pleads. "I want you to live." _I can't promise that, Tweek._


	6. Screaming At The Walls

The unmusical shatter of glass isn't nearly as loud as I thought it would be. Without bothering to cover my hands, I break out the stubborn pieces that want to stay in the frame. Blood is left behind as I crawl through the window into the Tweak's living room. First things first, I unlock the front door then kick it open. That this is breaking and entering doesn't even cross my mind. Tweek lived here and I belong wherever he was.

My blonde boyfriend hasn't showed his face these past couple of days. I don't know what's keeping him away. There is no way that I've gotten over him. Its only been a month. Every time I think about Tweek my heart aches and I think about suicide. Suicide never seemed like a real option before I lost Tweek.

Inside the house its obvious that the heat has been off. No one has cleaned up or put the house on the market yet. I'm thankful for that because now I can go through Tweek's things and take what I want. I want it all but I don't have enough room in my car. Signs of a struggle are everywhere. The smudge outside the downstairs bathroom where Tweek fell, the pieces of broken glass, the way the area rug is bent up because Tweek was dragged over it.

Then there is the blood in the bathroom. Blood on the door and on the floor, on the counter top. I still see bloodstains on my hands and a voice in my head tells me its because I'm as guilty as the bitch for killing him. Most of the time I succumb to the insistent nagging that I'm responsible for my boyfriend's death. This time I push the voice away. It's easy to do since the silence is so perfect that my head is starting to hurt.

In the kitchen I find more blood and a rusty exacto knife. He must have come in here first. A chair is knocked over. She was sitting there and ambushed him, probably in the dark. I leave the kitchen and go upstairs. The door to the master bedroom is damaged and hanging off its hinges .

Mrs. Tweak probably barricaded herself in her room. I walk by it without looking in. The next door I come to is the bathroom door. Tweek kept his drugs in here. I push it open, not sure what I'm expecting. It's just a bathroom, nothing of significance happens.

The medicine cabinet seems to be the place to look even though its the most obvious. Nothing really stands out until I see a strange looking bottle on the bottom shelf tucked away in a corner. When I read the label I'm unsurprised that it says Diamorphine on it. I am surprised that its a prescription for Mr. Tweak. _He thought it was his mother. _I pocket the drug.

Mrs. Tweak has some Valium in a drawer by the sink. I pocket that as well. Then I leave for Tweek's room. I stop outside the door, wondering if he ever moved his furniture back. I push on the damaged wood, recalling the morning Mrs. Tweak broke in. Would she have killed him if I hadn't been there?

The door swings open easily. Tweek's room isn't the same as I remember it. Things are packed away in boxes and garbage bags. The furniture isn't in its proper place. Tweek told me his mother was acting strange. This must have been it.

I don't know what to do first. The room smells like us. There is nothing left of Tweek, though. His spirit doesn't haunt this place. I have to take his sketchbooks from this past year. I guess I'm narcissistic because they are filled with drawings of me.

His rainbow scarf goes on top of the box of sketchbooks. I look around, wondering what else to take. I find a pack of cigarettes in the sock drawer and a tiny bottle of tequila. _God, he really never was sober. _I feel a grudging respect for how well he kept himself together despite being shitfaced. If she did those things to me that she did to him I would probably never want to be sober either.

I put the bottle back. Tweek's other drawers hold nothing of interest. It takes me an hour to go through his DVDs to make sure there isn't any weed stashed in them. At The Dark Crystal I pause, recalling the time we made out during it and the indecisiveness I was feeling at the time. Tweek kept wanting to have sex. He's never said it but I don't think he had ever been in a real relationship before me.

Tweek's closet takes longer because I have to open every box and trust me, there are a lot of them. Most of them get put back. One is empty except for a small notebook. My heart beats faster. I pick it up, feel the rough texture of the green leaves in its cover. Then I sit with my back to the wall, pull out my phone to use as a light, and start reading.

_Craig,_

_If you are reading this then either you are snooping again or I'm dead. I wish I could say this is just going to be a last love letter or whatever but its going to be painful to read. It hurts writing it. Literally, I just got a paper cut. Anyways. _

_Before I met you I was trying to die. Even though I only sleep two hours, getting out of bed was hard. My biggest motivation to leave the house was mom's bad days. I've tried to commit suicide a couple of times (before we started dating) but it didn't work. Mostly I just ended up hurting myself even more. Please remember that if you fail at suicide its going to be that much worse. _

_I'm telling you about that because...mom is going to kill me soon. My room is how it is because she's been packing up my shit while I'm gone. The other night I caught her crying about losing her son. I'm their only son, ever. She's never had any miscarriages either. So it has to be me. I hope you don't hate me for this, but I'm going to let her kill me. _

_Even though you are literally the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you so much that I don't know what I would do without you. You make me so happy, Craig, sometimes I pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. Without you there isn't a me. You are my soulmate. _

_God, I love you so much babe. But as much as I love you, I hate living like this. I can't turn mom in because I love her. She's far too clever to be punished anyway. That probably sounds like an excuse but I'm serious, my mom is an insane genius. And she scares me. _

_I'm so sorry that I wasn't stronger. I'm being so unfair to you. I just...can't do this anymore. _

_Please don't stop loving me. Don't forget me, okay? You are the only person who cares. If you forget me then I'm afraid I'll disappear forever. _

_This is going to sound like a lot to ask but after I'm gone I want you to move on. Be with someone who is good for you. Someone who isn't so fucked up. Fall in love again. _

_And get help for yourself and your sister. I hated seeing those bruises on you. That's why I drew them, every time, so that there would be some evidence. You don't love your parents the way I loved mine._

_I love you. _

_-Tweek_

I flip through the rest of the notebook but that is all there is. Just the one letter. I'm pissed off. I didn't think it was possible but my heart is in worse agony than it was before I picked up this fucking notebook. With the back of my hand I rub at my eyes. "Bastard."

There is a solid clunk when the tiny green book hits a stack of boxes. It lands at my feet. I rest my head on my knees. I would have done anything for Tweek. Sold my soul as long as he would be safe and happy. "Give him back."

I plead out loud to whoever will listen. There is no response. No one but me is here. Not even my hallucination of Tweek is here. If it would do anything I would trade places with Tweek in a heartbeat. But Tweek would be miserable again.

I miss him. I miss his messy blonde hair. I miss the way he tasted like coffee and cigarettes. I miss his warm skin against mine, voice low and husky. I miss his observant yellow eyes. I've never seen such a light shade of brown before.

Tweek went to her on purpose, knowing that she would kill him. _How could he be so selfish? _"Why did you leave me?" I moan, tilting my head back. My eyes are closed but I _feel_ him. Before I can even move there is a creak outside the door.

I'm whooshed back a few days to when Tweek and I were laying in bed and someone was outside the door. The fear we felt then is replaced by anger now. In a second I'm on my feet, running towards the door. This place belonged to Tweek so it belongs to me now. "Craig?" Kenny?

I crash into him. We tumble into the bathroom. I'm on my feet in a second, looking over my shoulder for my blonde. Nothing. Not even his presence is here anymore. "What are you doing here."

I demand to know. Kenny's eyes are fixated on something underneath the sink. He rips a needle from beneath the counter. With a disgusted expression on his face, the blonde throws it aside. _So that's where he hid it. _"The front door was kicked open."

Oh. Right. That would be my fault. His ocean blue eyes lock with mine. "What are you doing here?" I flip him off.

It's been way too long since I've last done that. "He wanted to die." I tell Kenny as I walk back into Tweek's room. I stand beside the window, looking at all of the tiny burns I made in its sill. The other follows me and I know he's looking around. Wondering how much of this I did and how much was like this when I got here.

"I know." Kenny replies. I feel a rush of anger towards him. "I thought he was over it after he met you." His words make me want to smash my head against the glass until it shatters. Rustling has me turning around.

Kenny is mostly underneath the bed. He wriggles out, dragging something with him. "You, uh, are probably going to want to take this with you." It's a wooden box with a lock on it. "Combination is 739. S.E.X."

Curious, I kneel beside McCormick and enter the combination. My face turns red when I see whats inside the box. "I thought...he only had...the one..." I've never seen this many sex toys outside of a Spencers. No two are alike. And all of that lube, some of it open.

"If you plan on using them, Tweek religiously kept them clean." My blush darkens. Quickly I close the box and snap the lock shut. "Its a fitting code, isn't it? I always told him that it should have been FAG though." The thought crosses my mind.

"Did you use these." Like hell I'm using any of them if McCormick did. Even if Tweek did keep them clean, which doesn't surprise me in the slightest. They certainly look clean. I wonder what he would say if he knew we were going through his box of sex toys. To my surprise and mild irritation Kenny starts laughing.

"As if. He wouldn't let me near the fucking things." He winks a blue eye at me. "If I was lucky I just got to watch." Jealousy rages through me. I never got to watch anything.

I nudge the box into the pile of stuff I'm taking with me. Not for sentimental reasons or whatever, but because how weird would it be to break open a box and find sex toys. "So what are you doing here, Tucker?" McCormick questions me. He takes a pack of cigarettes from a pocket but when he shakes one out I see it was hand-rolled. I don't ask for one and he doesn't offer one.

"None of your business." He raises an eyebrow at me. I ignore it. I pick up some things and leave Kenny in the room by himself. Hopefully I'm not having too much faith in him not looting it. When I return from my car everything is as I left it.

It takes three trips to get everything to my car. The blonde doesn't offer to help. I don't want him touching Tweek's things anyway. As I'm wrapping the rainbow scarf around my neck I wonder what it would be like to strangle myself with it. Something stops me from doing it. Maybe Kenny being here because I know he would stop me from dying.

Without saying goodbye I walk out of the house and get into my car. As I'm sitting behind the wheel it occurs to me that I don't know what to do. _How do I keep living? What am I supposed to do with my life? _Well, I better get this stuff to my room. The drive to Token's is uneventful.

Part of me wanted to get in an accident. I unload Tweek's things, stashing them in my closet. As I'm finishing up, my dark-skinned friend approaches. His arms are crossed, brown eyes cautious. "I'm throwing a party." Great.

I run my hands through my hair, look over at the little brown and white bunny. I should really pay more attention to her. To Token I say, "Okay." Even though I'm not sure I can handle a party. The last social event I was at was Tweek's funeral and that was hardly a party.

"You should go." Tweek's voice causes me to start. Token is giving me a strange look which I ignore. "Meet new people." _There aren't any new people in South Park. _The blonde walks over to Token and stands beside him.

"Are you sure you can handle a party?" Token inquires. I must look insane to him. Tweek laughs. Because I'm not sure I just shrug. _God, I missed his laugh._

The teenager with dreadlocks hesitates before leaving. "You know you can talk to me if you need to, right?" Tweek raises an eyebrow at me before vanishing. I'm left with a bigger hole in my chest than before. Suddenly my mouth is dry as sand. Slowly I nod, just wishing that Token would leave.

My wish is granted. The second my friend is gone I close the door and lock it. With trembling hands I pull out the medication I stole. For a long time my eyes are glued to the bottles. I wonder what Tweek felt when he was on these. Experimenting with drugs isn't really my cup of tea but I do occasionally try stuff.

Maybe Tweek will come back. I don't have a needle. Chewing on my lip in thought, I make a mental rundown of the items in Token's mansion. I feel like his parents might have a needle in their bathroom because of Mr. Black's peanut allergy. Quietly I put the drugs in my underwear drawer then creep into the hallway. There is no one in sight.

I'm almost to the master bedroom when the door opens. Before I can hide, Mrs. Black comes out of their bedroom. She looks startled to see me and her dark eyes are filled with pity. "It's been a long time since I've seen you, Craig." I don't know what to say so I nod. "I'm so sorry about losing Tweek."

For some reason her apology sounds more heartfelt than anyone else's. A lump forms in my throat so I just nod again. Without asking what I'm doing, Mrs. Black leaves me alone in the long hallway. She's always been so kind to me. I wait a few heartbeats before entering her room, hoping that Mr. Black isn't in there. It becomes clear rather quickly that I'm the only soul in the master bedroom.

Swiftly I make my way to the bathroom. It's so huge its about the size of my bedroom. Still as a statue, I stand and think. The medicine cabinet is the most logical place. It has to be somewhere out in the open incase of an emergency. I find no needles, just an epi pen.

"Damn." My search begins. I'm careful to replace everything exactly how I found it. Is this how Tweek felt? It takes ten minutes to find a tiny box of hypodermic needles under the sink. When I do, my heart skips a beat.

I feel strange inside, almost excited but also nervous. And maybe a little guilty. Pocketing three needles, I push the guilt away. After replacing the box I escape back to my room. My hands are shaking again when I retrieve the drugs. The Valium is replaced, leaving me to stare at the Diamorphine bottle.

There isn't a whole lot left. After checking to see how much the dosage should be I come to the conclusion that there is enough for two and a half doses. I slide the needle into the bottle and pull the top of the syringe. Finding a vein in my arm isn't difficult. Working up the courage to intentionally give myself a shot is. Tweek did this almost every day.

I'm slow to slide the needle into my blue vein. "I did not!" I can barely hear him over the loud drumming of my heart. Diamorphine, medicinal heroin, is still heroin. The effect is almost immediate and not the one I was expecting. Reflex has me tearing the needle from my arm and flinging it at the mirror while I use my free hand to cover my mouth.

I'm on my knees, struggling to keep the contents of my stomach down. A few seconds later the nausea passes. And it hits me like a punch in the face. _Happiness. _I stand up, look at myself in the mirror and like what I see. My reflection smiles at me.

It feels like my bones are made of jelly or maybe my limbs are attached to a puppeteer's strings because I can't stop moving. I'm traveling around the room with fluid-like jerky movements. Rustling makes me notice the rabbit. I corpse myself over to her cage. "Daisy May." The name just comes out of my mouth.

Her ears twitch. For a while I fumble with the latch on her cage. I can't get it open. In the mirror my body contorts in a powerful shiver. I move towards the door. Its no easy feat getting it open but I do.

There are people in the hallway. They stick close to the walls in groups of two or three. I walk down the center of the long, fancy hallway. Distorted murmurs reach my ears. All of a sudden my stomach lurches. I throw up in a large blue vase.

_Fucking gross. _Part of me is demanding that I get the fowl taste out of my mouth. The other part doesn't give a fuck. I corpse-walk to the living room, look down on the group of teenagers partying below me. Clyde sees me, beckons me down. Its difficult to climb onto the railing when your legs are like wet noodles.

Someone is screaming but the partiers below don't notice. The ground rushes up at me. I don't really feel the impact. Now there is a collective scream from the group. My body won't move and my eyes won't close. I look for him, but I can't find him.

Tweek doesn't ride with me in the ambulance. I wonder if he's mad at me. This will be my first trip to the hospital since my fight with Tweek in grade school. I don't know if we make it to the hospital. I'm not conscious for the entire ride. I don't dream.

The moment I'm conscious I roll onto my side and throw up over the edge of my bed. Nothing comes up but vile stomach acid. I don't remember the last time I ate anything. Pain in my arm has me rolling onto my back again. My mouth tastes like shit. As I chew on my lip, I glance over at my arm.

Bandaged up nice and neat. I remember falling but I don't remember any pain. That's good, at least. The IV in my arm is hooked up to something clear. For a while I watch it with interest, curious as to what kind of drugs they are pumping into me. _Not very good ones if I can feel pain._

At first I think I'm alone but its not long before I hear someone snoring softly somewhere in the room. The curtain around my bed blocks my view. My mind dregs up the moment the high hit me. Suddenly I'm hurting _everywhere. _It feels like my body is trying to turn in on itself. A cold sweat slicks my skin, dampens my hair.

Some deep part of me knows that if I get more drugs I'll feel better. Better than better, I'll feel golden. I don't think I've ever wanted anything more than I want to get high right now. The moan that slips out is pathetic. I don't care.

I feel like _dying_. This is different from the feeling of dying when Tweek died. I actually feel like I _am _dying. Something is pounding against the inside of my skull in rhythm to my racing pulse. I think my heart is going to burst through my chest.

For a long, long time I lay dying in the hospital bed without actually achieving death. The snoring next to me is irritating. It gets to the point where that's all I can think about. The snoring grates against my nerves in a way that I've never really experienced. Finally I throw back the sheet and sit up. My vision swims into black with the head rush.

When it clears I get to my feet, frown at the cold on my pads. My legs still feel a little like limp noodles. _How long have I been here? _I shake off the thought to pursue my goal in making the snoring stop. Whipping back the thin curtain, I'm confronted with a boy who looks two years younger than me with an angelic face. My first thought is that he is too perfect.

Instinctively I know that his eyes don't hold the same darkness that is in the eyes of so many people I know. I've seen demons in the eyes of Tweek, Kenny, Kyle, and so many others. The boy doesn't stir or stop snoring. All of the anger I felt at his snoring vanishes. I just don't care anymore. Slowly I let the curtain fall back.

I turn around and get back into the bed. I'm still not feeling so hot. My blue eyes stare up at the white ceiling. It sure is bright up there. _Why hasn't Tweek visited me? _For some reason I can't remember the last time I saw him.

A nurse comes in after a while. I hear her sneakers on the linoleum. She stops to check on the angel boy then comes in to see me. "You should have paged us when you woke up." Her tone is disapproving. She looks harassed.

The lie slips off my tongue with ease, "I just woke up." I refrain from calling her bitch. Its strange how I'm just not in the mood. With a sigh she checks my vitals and reads the clipboard at the end of my bed. Her candy red lips looks like she's eaten something sour.

Her brown eyes glance up at me. A painted-on eyebrow is raised. "Took heroin and tried to commit suicide by jumping off your friend's stairs?" The nurse is giving me a look like I'm an idiot. Saying it like that makes it sound like I _am_ an idiot. I try to remember what I was thinking but all I remember is naming the rabbit Daisy May.

_What the fuck kind of name is Daisy May? _Somehow I feel Tweek would approve. Finally I reply, "I didn't try to commit suicide." It sounds false even to my ears. _Was I trying to die?_

"Mhm." Her tone tells me she doesn't believe me. "Well now that you are awake, Mr. Tucker, you are staying for twenty-four hours under observation. You also get to talk to a psychiatrist." They think I'm going to try to commit suicide or something. I distinctly remember trying to freeze to death but thankfully no one really knows about that.

"I have my own shrink." Which is more or less true, but I haven't really been seeing him lately. I didn't go as much when Tweek was alive because I wanted to be with him and nothing was going to stop me. Now that Tweek is dead and I'm not living with my parents I haven't seen him at all. She is giving me a stink eye so I rattle off his name and office number. Its sad that I know his cell and home numbers too.

Finally she leaves me. Out in the hall where I assume the nurses station is located I hear her calling my therapist. After a short conversation, the nurse comes back in. Her expression is softer around her eyes and I know that she knows about Tweek. "Look honey, Dr. Tristan is going to come by tomorrow morning." So I'm a _honey_ now.

I nod because there is nothing else left to say. Now that she knows, she is going to be treating me differently. I kind of wish that someone didn't know. Or that it didn't effect their actions. The nurse leaves me mostly alone. As I'm laying back I realize that this is going to be boring.

I have no memories of Tweek in the hospital except the one. I go over it again and again in my head. It feels like I'm forgetting some of it. Blacking out after Tweek kicked me in the back of the head is the last thing I remember even though our visit lasted two days. My eyelids slide closed. I fall into a light and troubled sleep.

When I wake up again the weight against my side vanishes. His coffee and cigarette smell lingers, though. "Tweek..." _Come back to me. _There is no reply. All of a sudden I remember the rest of our hospital visit.

I woke up in the middle of the night with a strange weight on my right side. It wasn't uncomfortable until I saw the messy platinum blonde hair. Confusion, then I saw the empty bed beside mine and realized it was Tweek. "Its s-scary." Maybe it was because I was tired, but I didn't kick him out of bed until morning. After that we never spoke of it again and I forgot about it.

_If I had known then what I do now... _I shut down that train of thought quickly. There isn't a point in thinking about what could have been. I wonder if Tweek knew then that we would end up together. Then I think of our first meeting in the bathroom and decide that if the thought ever crossed his mind he had forgotten it too. "You're awake."

His voice is soft and warm. I glance over at my temporary roommate. He's laying on his side staring at me, light brown hair hanging in his eyes. "You were screaming when they brought you in." The boy looks familiar but at the same time not at all. Either way, I don't like what he is saying.

So I decide to ignore angel face over there. My silence doesn't deter him. "I'm Daniel." The name doesn't ring a bell. "What's your name?" Its just a name.

"Craig." I don't give him my last name because he didn't give me his. That's the end of the conversation. From the corner of my eye I see my roommate yawn and the next thing I hear is that quiet snoring. All I can think is that Tweek didn't snore. I wonder if I snore.

Night has fallen before we speak again. Daniel is pale in the dim lights when he wakes up from what I'm assuming is a drug-induced sleep. When he sees I'm awake he smiles. "What are you here for, Craig?" Great. More conversation.

"I'm a heroin junkie." The words just slip out as though I came to terms with my addiction years ago instead of tried it for the first time however long ago it was. Then, for no reason, I add, "They think I tried to commit suicide." Daniel's expression is one of pity. I want to smack it off his face.

"You don't look like a heroin junkie." He brushes fawn-colored hair out of his eyes. I still don't know what color they are. "At least you didn't at school." Its not surprising that he goes to my school since South Park High is the only high school in South Park. Still, its strange that I can't place this Daniel kid.

Its not like its an overly large school. "Appearances can be deceiving." I reply, thinking of Tweek. He wanted everyone to think he was clumsy so we wouldn't know about the abuse at home. I guess its the same as me making sure to cover all my bruises. "What are you in for?"

I don't know why I'm keeping this conversation going. I don't care about this kid at all. Quietly I sigh. _I don't care about anything but Tweek, and he's gone. _"Oh, I had surgery." They are keeping a surgery patient in with a suicidal heroin addict?

I feel like that is not how it is supposed to work. Daniel's voice cuts through my thoughts. "They put his mom in a mental hospital." My eyes snap to him. Before I can ask, he elaborates. "They decided Tweek's mom is crazy and put her in a mental hospital."

"A mental hospital." I repeat, voice void of emotion. "They should have fucking put her in one of those years ago before she started to abuse her son!" I snarl. My fingers curl into fists. In my anger the thing nearest to me – a cup of water – is thrown against the far wall.

"I can't fucking believe it! All of the shit she put Tweek through for years and they put her in a goddamn _loony bin_? What the fuck are they thinking?! She should be killed for murdering him! She should be beaten and tortured and have her legs cut off. That _bitch_."

My entire body is on vibrate with the anger I'm feeling. Its a consuming feeling, pulling me under into a boiling lake of hatred. I rip out the IV in my arm, hissing with the pain. I'm on my feet before I notice the blood running down my arm in thick rivers. Red stains the palm of my right hand. My eyes flicker over to my other palm and I see his blood on it.

Flashing before my eyes is the backyard with the blood in the grass. It moves on to Tweek lying cold and dead on a mortician's table with his legs cut off. My hands are dripping with blood. Its my fault he died. My eyes roll back up into my head as my legs give out. I don't feel it when I hit the floor.


	7. Addicted To You

It has been months since I was last in the mint green office of my therapist. I sit on a brown leather couch that creaks every time I move. In my hands I'm playing with a lump of blue play-dough, rolling it into a ball and smushing it flat. Dr. Tristan sits in a straight-back chair opposite me made out of the same leather as the couch. His clipboard is in his lap, a mint green pen resting in his hand.

"You have been through a lot, Craig." I don't respond. I roll the play-dough into a perfectly round ball. "There have been a lot of tragedies these past few months." Dr. Tristan presses. He's just pointing out the obvious.

"Should we start from the beginning?" That's generally where people start. I smash the blue dough into a sphere. "When did everything start?" With my thumbs I flatten the sphere into a pancake. "Craig, you know I'm trying to help you don't you?"

Finally I drag my blue-gray eyes up to look into his hazel ones. "I'm here because I'll be kicked out of school otherwise." Dr. Tristan makes no comment. I drop my gaze back down the play-dough. "I met Tweek in the bathroom at school. He was throwing up in a toilet because his mom poisoned his breakfast."

"His wrist was broken but it was like he hardly even noticed. I was being a jackass and he ended up confessing everything to me." I hear the scratching of a pen. "Then he begged me not to tell anyone about his mom abusing him." Like an idiot I agreed to keep his secret. I sigh.

"It snowballed from there. I started noticing him, interacting with him more. By the end of a week I knew I was in love." There is a lot I don't tell him. But I tell him more than I intended to about Tweek's abuse. I catalog all of the wounds and what I suspected made them. I tell him about the scars and the side effects that never went away completely.

Dr. Tristan only interrupts one time. I've been watching the color drain from his face. I've seen the way his eyebrows knit together and the frown that tugs down his mouth. "Why didn't you tell anyone what was going on?" I smile because only someone in my situation would understand. His frown deepens.

"I didn't want to lose him to the foster care system. Or worse, lose his love. Tweek would have hated me if I had turned his mother in." I don't mention my secret. It isn't part of the story. Dr. Tristan is silent while I tell him about my dad setting my room on fire and killing my guinea pig.

I make it clear that I was _not _a user of heroin when my dad accused me of being one but tried that about a week ago. I don't mention seeing Tweek. I don't mention having more drugs. I do explain briefly about Tweek's death but its been all over the news so there isn't much to add. Just that I saw his body at the mortician's office. "Wait, they actually let you see his body?"

I make a noise of confirmation. Dr. Tristan scribbles something down on his clipboard. I finish my story with, "I wasn't trying to commit suicide." _I already did that. _You know its a bad story when your therapist takes off his glasses and rubs his temples.

"You've been through more than I thought." Imagine if I had told him everything. There are little balls of play-dough on my jeans making two lines of soldiers. When my shrink consults his notes, I flick one of the balls off. It rolls under the coffee table between us. "How have you been sleeping?"

I shrug. "Are you eating?" Even though its a lie, I nod. Suddenly I'm very aware of how skinny I am beneath my long-sleeve yellow and black stripped shirt. Maybe he won't notice. "Your grades don't seem to have slipped either, so I won't prescribe anything."

That's what he is paid for; to make sure I make it through school. I nod again. I flick another blue ball off my leg. This one goes under the shrink's uncomfortable looking chair. "How is your home life?" He doesn't know I'm not living with my parents.

I shrug again. While his eyes have mine I flick another ball of play-dough. I don't see where it goes. Dr. Tristan sighs. "Is there anything else you would like to discuss with me, Craig?" Mute, I shake my head no.

"Then I will see you again next week. Call me if you need anything." I set the play-dough in a pile that looks like bright blueberries and rise. As I'm walking out of the office I hear him cursing and see him peeling blue play-dough off his shoe. Smirking, I shove my hands in my front pockets and leave. Outside its snowing.

"What am I going to do without you, babe?" I ask Tweek. My boyfriend is still silent. I wish I knew what happened to make him suddenly stop talking to me. Part of me is afraid that I imagined him. I light up an American Spirit.

Its one of my last ones. With no destination in mind, I let my feet take me where they will. _What am I going to do?_ I end up at the convenience store. Kyle is standing behind the counter, flipping through a Lemon Boys magazine. He barely looks up when I walk in.

My feet take me to the greaser isle. I take a container of propane and a lighter. As I'm walking out the door, Kyle seems to realize that I didn't pay. "Hey!" But that's all the effort he makes. I walk to Tweek's house.

Swallowing my fears, I go into the backyard then to the shed. There are two containers of gasoline. I take both of them and enter through the backdoor. I start with Tweek's room and trail gasoline throughout the rest of the upstairs. I trail it down the stairs behind me, empty the rest out into the living room. Then I put the propane in the kitchen and open it.

Before I leave, I take one last look around. There are so many bad memories here that they are etched in the walls. Kneeling beside my gasoline trail, I light it. Flames go up in my face. I'm quick to jump back before I get burned. I'm quick to leave the house.

Once I'm outside I go into the forest across from the house to watch it burn. Burn it does. In a matter of seconds there is fire shattering the glass in the upstairs windows. I can see the flames spreading. The fire spreads faster than I thought it would. Five minutes later and its reached the kitchen.

The explosion of heat has me wishing I had gone further back. Sirens scream in the distance. They get louder. For a few seconds more, I watch the house burn. Then I turn around and walk deeper into the forest. Taking back roads I make my way to Token's house.

I go in the backyard. For a moment I pause beside the pool. The ice is thicker. I consider jumping into the icy water. It wouldn't take long to die. Instead I push open the sliding glass door and enter the mansion.

Clyde barrels into me. If he hadn't caught his balance we both would have fallen over. "Craig, you asshole, why didn't you tell us?" He's sobbing into my shirt. Awkwardly I pat his broad back, glancing up at Token. The dark teenager is standing there stoically.

"Craig, we need to talk." I think about making a joke but I can't seem to find my sense of humor. Instead I nod agreement. I knew this was coming, especially when they didn't visit me in the hospital. Token leads the way to his room. My friend sits at his computer desk while Clyde plops down in a beanbag chair and I sit on the bed.

From the corner of my eye I see Clyde rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve. Token taps his fingertips together, a habit I know he gets from his dad. "I know that we have no idea what you are going through, but Craig, man, you have to get on with your life." I thought that they were supposed to give me at least a year to get over the loss of a loved one. "We wouldn't even be mentioning this but you are going down a bad road." He gestures to my broken arm but we both know he is referring to more than just that.

I'm quiet for a few minutes. Tweek wants me to move on too. I'm terrified of forgetting about him, of not remembering something important. I'm one of the only people who knew the real Tweek. In the end all I can think to say is, "What would you have me do?"

I watch my friends exchange a look. "Maybe you should get a job." Clyde suggests. I throw him a look. Clyde hasn't worked a day in his life. "Well, it would get you out of your room and you might meet someone new."

Someone new. It feels like that's what everything is coming down to. Its only been a few months but they want me to get on with life before I do something I may not live to regret. "I can't replace Tweek." I wish I could get that through everyone's heads. It would make my life a little easier.

Token is nodding. "We know, bro. We do. But you can't be alone for the rest of your life." The teen with dreadlocks hesitates, "I hate to say it, Craig, but single is not a good look for you."

"I can't just get over Tweek." I point out, frowning. Suddenly I'm restless. Before I know it I'm on my feet pacing. "You don't know how much I love him." _I would do anything for him._

My pacing is upsetting them. I catch another look between them. Clyde jumps in. "We aren't asking you to replace him. We just want you to...to...Token, what is it we want him to do?"

"Heal." Token provides. "You need to heal. Right now you are letting your wounds fester and its going to end up killing you. You're lucky that you broke your arm instead of your neck." Part of me wishes I had broken my neck instead of my arm.

"We love you bro." Clyde is beside me, putting his arm around my shoulders. "We just don't want you to be unhappy." The brunette frowns, "Or dead." I manage something that I think is a smile.

Token gets up too, slings his arm around my other shoulder. "Promise us you won't do anything stupid." Feeling almost guilty, I think of lighting Tweek's house on fire. Will they be able to tie me to that? I don't know for sure. "We want what's best for you, Craig."

"Alright. I won't do anything overly stupid." My promise is empty but it seems to be enough for them. I want to get out of the room; be alone. I slip out from their embraces. "I'm going to take a shower."

Clyde grins. "Good. I didn't want to tell you this man, but you fucking reek." Token hits him over the head. I flip him off. Its been too long since I've done that too.

I leave them chatting happily. After their company the empty hallway is a sanctuary. I walk past the landing I jumped off of without looking in that direction. In my room I check on Daisy May and give her fresh water. She gives my hand bunny kisses. While she is not a guinea pig, she is a pretty cool rabbit.

And her fur is the softest thing I've ever touched. I'm glad Tweek made me get her. Speaking of Tweek, I go to my closet and pull out the boxes with Tweek's sketches in them. I haven't looked at any of his stuff since I brought it home four days ago. My stay in the hospital was three days, two of which I spent unconscious. I suspect they were afraid of me trying to commit suicide or getting right back onto heroin.

It definitely didn't stop the withdrawal. I think of the drug and sweat rolls down my face. How anyone can i_not/i _want to stay high all the time I don't know. Now that I've had a dose, I know how Tweek could succumb to injecting so often. Not that it was just Diamorphine he took; there was a whole cocktail of drugs in his system. Still, the appeal is clearly there.

I pretend like there isn't a full dose left in my sock drawer. Flipping through the first sketchbook I see an assortment of random things. The eight times pierced ear of someone. A faceless girl with a rainbow mohawk. The wedding bands on a couple clasping their hands together. Someone leaning against a wall smoking.

There are a few pictures of a person I assume is Kenny. Then all of the random drawings stop and its just me. Page after page of me. My piercings. My eyes. My wounds.

I stare at myself. This is how Tweek saw me. I think my nose looks a little longer and definitely crookeder than in real life. My eyes are less interesting than this gray ringed with blue. There are hardly any drawings of me smiling. I should have smiled more.

Now I feel like my face will break if I attempt to smile. "You hardly ever smiled when I was drawing you." My heart gives a painful leap in my chest. It feels like I just had a heart attack. When I look in the mirror, Tweek is there. My boyfriend sits on the edge of my bed, looking dreadfully sexy in a black tuxedo.

I rub my eyes with my arm. When I peek he is still there. "Where did you go?" Its supposed to be a demand but I can't quite make my voice get to the right tone. Tweek's golden eyes hold love and the same pain mine do. I don't hate him for pitying us.

"Somewhere else." Tweek replies vaguely. He takes off the jacket of his tux. It looks expensive. Underneath he is wearing a black tank top. "Why are you so fucking selfish?"

_Fuck, he is sexy. _The blonde smirks. Right. He knows what I'm thinking. "I love you." I retort, flipping him off.

"I know you do, babe." Tweek scratches the back of his head. I wonder if he actually has an itch or if its a habit. "I miss you too, C-Craig." I get up and move to get closer but the blonde takes a step back. "I miss you b-but seeing me isn't h-helping you."

Searching his face, I see that Tweek is fighting a battle with himself. I know I can touch him if I can get close enough. It could be like he never even died. "Craig! See, this is what I was - argh - talking about! I-I'm dead!"

Tweek backs into the corner with the large arm chair. I follow him quietly. The backs of his legs hit the chair. If he wanted to he could leave. I reach out to touch his cheek. "Craig, I'm dead."

Tears spring to his eyes. He only cries when he's really upset. "You don't feel dead." I bring my other hand up to cup his face with both of them. Tears fall onto my fingers; wet, real. _Maybe I only dreamed him dying._

My boyfriend shakes his head. "N-no. You – nngh - saw me dead with my legs cut off." Tweek doesn't vanish, which I take as a good sign. I want to kiss him. "Don't."

"You saw them - gah - bury me, Craig. You see my blood on your hands." He takes my palms away from his face and holds them up so that I can see them. Crimson is wet and hot on my skin. I squeeze my hands shut around his and the red liquid drips onto the floor between us. "I'm dead, baby, a-and this isn't real."

With those words I expect him to leave but he doesn't. Tweek stays still as a, well, corpse. When I touch Tweek's pale face, the blood vanishes. "Are you making me see it?" I question, feeling betrayed. It would suck to think that Tweek blames me for his death.

Quickly my lover shakes his head no. "But I can see it." Tweek chews his bottom lip, casts his golden eyes around the room. "I see you found m-my toys." I nod mutely. "I don't know w-what I am right now, Craig, but I'm not alive."

I run my fingers through his soft pale blonde hair, down to the back of his neck. Lightly I trace my fingertips across the sides of his neck – there's his pulse, no, wait, that's mine – up to his face. I expect him just disappear like he always does but so far Tweek is still very much here. I inch closer, leaning my face in for a kiss. "What if you – ack – kiss me and get t-transported to the underworld or something?" I open my eyes long enough to give him a look before resting my head on Tweek's boney shoulder.

"It could happen." Tweek whispers. Being the hopeless romantic that I am I direct something cheesy at him. "Don't t-tell me that you don't care because I care what – nngh - happens to you." Instead of continuing with that train of thought, I slide my tongue across the spot Tweek's pulse should be located. His nails dig into my arms.

Pressure and I know the blonde is trying to push me away. "One more time." I tell him. I apply more pressure to his neck. This time he isn't pushing me away, but pulling me closer by my hips. His forehead rests against my shoulder.

"We already had our _one more time_." Tweek sighs. That hardly counts. I didn't know it was our last time. "We've always had amazing sex, Craig. What would make this a-any different?"

"Tweek, I love you. I love you so much." I answer out loud. My teeth close around the sensitive skin of his neck. The blonde moans, hips bucking into mine. I find the hem of his shirt, run my hands underneath it against smooth skin.

Tweek's arms wrap around my neck. We stumble back onto the bed. Looking up at his beautiful face, I can't believe that I'm getting one more time with him. His golden eyes are twin orbs of lust and love. He crawls on top of me, grinds against my growing erection.

Soft lips brush mine tentatively, then harder. I push back, slip my tongue past our lips into his mouth. The taste of mint and coffee and cigarettes hits my tongue. Electricity shoots through me when my lover tweaks my nipple. I run my hands down his back, sliding past his pants, to squeeze his tight ass. _Knock, knock, knock._

When I open my eyes I'm alone. Alone and horny as fuck. "Craig?" _Jesus fucking Christ. _Clyde pokes his head through my door. I wonder what it would have looked like if he hadn't knocked first.

Tweek is gone again; not even leaving his taste behind this time. "_FUCK!_" I scream the word. I put the heels of my hands over my eyes. Hot wetness has me checking to make sure there isn't blood on them. Just tears.

Every time he leaves I die a little more on the inside. The ice in my heart grows a little bit more. This time is worse, somehow. "TOKEN!" Clyde has barged into my room and is yelling for our friend. The brunette is crying, not knowing whats wrong with me, trying to explain to Token something he doesn't understand.

The next thing I know, my sobs have morphed into laughter. There isn't anything funny. I feel broken on the inside, shattered into a thousand pieces. For just a minute there I had let myself believe that Tweek was alive. This is what he was talking about; the complete and utter feeling of desolation. Its like a blade is in my heart, twisting and turning relentlessly.

My friends don't know what to do with me. They don't know what to do for me. Who do you call when your best friend has gone crazy? I laugh until my head hurts and my sides feel like they are going to split open. Tears are still streaming down my face but I don't know if its because I'm laughing so much or if its because I'm still crying. Sudden pain to my face has me shutting up and sitting up.

Token's dark gaze is concerned. "Craig, you need help." He holds up a hand to stop me from speaking. "We talked to your therapist. He agrees with us that you need more help than we can give you." Uneasily, I wonder what they are getting at. On the floor Clyde is sniffing but his sobbing seems to have stopped.

Token looks down at his feet for a moment. Then he looks up at me again, and I see the resolve in his eyes. "Tomorrow you are going to the mental hospital." I imagine the paint on my walls peeling and fluttering off into space, which has replaced the ceiling. _Mental hospital._ Then everything shatters into a million pieces.

Someone is talking but it sounds like the adults from Charlie Brown. _Wah, wah, wah, wah, wah._ Tweek's mom is at the mental hospital. _I'll kill her. _"You aren't going to kill anyone, Craig." I blink and Token is still standing in front of me talking.

Clyde is peering at me through puffy red eyes. "Are you going to be okay if we leave you here alone or do we need to babysit you?" I shrug, propping myself up on my elbows. At least my boner is gone. "Then we'll babysit you. Come to the movie theatre."

Clyde beckons me with both hands. With a sigh I get to my feet. Token walks behind me, silently. I slump into a red velvet seat, declining popcorn and soda. They pick movies without any romance at all. Zombies, narrow escapes, and blowing shit up are basically the synopsis.

Kevin and Dylan show up into the third movie unannounced. Somehow I find myself being kicked in the back of the head by Kenny. The devious blonde winks at me before setting his shoes back on the ground. Two movies later, Mr. and Mrs. Black to join us. My ass is asleep and the popcorn smell is making me hungry. So when Clyde offers some I grab a handful.

Five hours later everyone takes a brief break. Its nine o clock at night according to the large ornate clock in the hallway. Token's parents retire to their bedroom, bidding us all a good night. The doorbell rings before everyone decides what to watch next. I'm the one who answers it since no one seems to notice it. Red and Nichole stand in the snow.

"Hi Craig." Nichole greets me. I step aside to let them in. This is turning out into a regular party. Red doesn't say anything but she does punch me lightly in the arm. Once the girls are in I close the door behind them.

Token and Nichole are rubbing noses awkwardly. Dylan is seething in his seat with Red slouched beside him. Kevin and Clyde are in a heated debate about something or another, using words I think someone made up. Kenny is staring at me. He gets up and ambles over. "You look like you could use a good fuck."

"No thanks." I reply as I take a step back. Kenny shrugs off his blue parka in a way that reminds me of Tweek shrugging off his tuxedo jacket. Glancing back at the group, I see Token and Clyde going through the long list of movies again. Everyone else has made themselves comfortable except Nichole - who is getting soda – Kenny, and me. I sit down in the back row and to my irritation, Kenny follows me.

Thankfully the blonde keeps his body parts to himself. I try to pay attention to the movie but like the other five, this one is hard to pay attention to. My mind wanders. For once I actively try to keep my thoughts from resting on Tweek. They end up landing on that brunette kid from the hospital. Daniel, was his name.

Its getting hard to keep my eyes open. Tweek would know who Daniel is. _Why didn't I ask him? _My head hits my chest and I startle awake. But my eyelids droop again. _I want to kiss him._

Tweek? No. Tweek is dead. Daniel is alive though. What would it be like to kiss those angel lips? I bet he is a virgin.

The next thing I know, Kenny is shaking me awake. I get the sense that a lot of time has passed. And I have a killer headache. "Hey man, time for bed." I stumble to my room, hardly noticing that everyone else is either gone or dispersing. As soon as I'm in my room I collapse onto my bed.

The only time I open my eyes until morning is when Kenny tugs off my shoes. I'm awake again. Someone is in bed with me. I can hear the person breathing. Immediately I know that it isn't Tweek. Lying on the far side of my bed is Kenny.

He's bare ass naked. Feeling for my clothes, I'm relieved to find them on. Yawning, I get up and walk over to Daisy May's home. She sits up on her hind legs, straight ears perked up. After stroking her soft brown and white fur, I refill her water bottle. Then I fill up her food bowl and scatter some hay.

Someone knocks lightly on my door before opening it. Mrs. Black glances at McCormick then back at me. I shake my head and shrug. She seems to accept this answer because what she says has nothing to do with my sex life. "A Dr. Tristan is here to pick you up, Craig." Until she said something I didn't even remember that I am going to the loony bin.

I open and close my mouth like a fish out of water but no sound comes out. "I'll tell him you will be down shortly." She leaves without another word. Shocked, I sit down on the edge of my bed. I have no idea if I should bring anything with me or what I should do at all. A hand on my shoulder has me jumping.

Kenny is sitting up. "I meant to tell you last night, but don't tell anyone about seeing Tweek. You can't talk out loud to him either." His jaw clenches. "If they think you are crazy you will _inever/i _get out of there and that is a miserable place to die in." A chill comes over me suddenly.

I glance up at the mirror and lock eyes with Kenny. He has such a vivid shade of blue irises. "Do you think it will actually help me?" I ask quietly. Life is going to be very different there than it is here. I wonder if I'm going to lose whats left of me.

The blonde's voice is serious, "No. But you have to make them believe that you are getting better." My gaze drops down to my hands. I don't see the usual blood staining them. Maybe I'm already making progress.

"If you want some advise, don't think about Tweek at all if you can help it. You need to think of something fucking beautiful and wonderful that is here on the outside. Something you can obtain, a goal kind of. Its easy to get lost in the madness and fantasies that spring up from pain." I give a grunt of acknowledgment.

I haul myself to my feet and change into something I don't care about. I have a sneaking suspicion that I won't be getting any of my stuff back when I leave the fucking mad house. "I'll see you around." I say because I kind of feel like I at least owe him a goodbye. "Don't fuck with my stuff."

Dragging my sneakered feet, I eventually make it to the kitchen where Dr. Tristan is waiting. He and the Blacks are sharing a cup of coffee. Red is there as well, her gray eyes narrowed distrustfully as she sips her coffee. My heart gives a painful twist at the smell. "Craig, you, uh..." Dr. Tristan's face tells me that I look like shit.

He finally settles on, "Are you ready to go?" I shrug. Truth be told, I think I'm going to throw up. I'm not sure if its nerves or heartbreak or the fact that the only thing I've had to eat in two days is popcorn. "Er, would you like to say goodbye?"

Since I don't want to be rude, I nod. Turning to Mrs. Black, I find its true that I want to say goodbye. I hug the short woman. "Thank you for taking care of me, Mrs. Black. Will you make sure that Daisy is taken care of while I'm...gone?" With a shaky smile on her face, my friend's mother agrees, promising that all of my things will be left alone and that my rabbit will be alive when I get back. Mr. Black and I shake hands then I move on to Red.

She's my cousin but I've normally not had a whole hell of a lot to do with her. "Make sure Ruby is taken care of, would you?" Her hard gray eyes soften around the edges. Silently she agrees. I don't know how close Ruby and Red are so I add, "She's usually with the McCormicks."

As I'm getting in the car it dawns on me that I never did take that shower last night. I probably reek. Dr. Tristan keeps up a nonstop monologue of friendly chatter. With my head leaning against the cold window, I stare out the window and ignore him. I try to find something beautiful out there in all that snow and gray sky but there is nothing. _When was the last time I really saw the beauty in something?_

I don't have to answer that. Quietly I sigh, knowing that Kenny is right about having to forget about Tweek for a while. Maybe this actually will be good for me. Or maybe I'll run into Mrs. Tweak and murder her. I think I would like that more than getting over my boyfriend. Truth be told, I'm scared shitless about this whole unfortunate chapter in my life.

"Don't be afraid, Craig. This is for the best." Dr. Tristan pulls onto an old road leading into the woods. A few miles later the asylum looks over the tops of the pine trees. Its gray, tall, and looks more like a mausoleum than anything else. My heart pounds in my chest and my first instinct is to get out of the car and run away.

I'm not easily frightened, but this place makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Tweek wouldn't go within a hundred miles of it if he knew it was here. The car stops and we get out. Before I can bolt like I want to, people have grabbed me. I struggle to free myself but they are stronger than I am. I'm dragged into hell kicking and screaming.


	8. White Wash

Its bright here, like a hospital. There is no place for demons to hide except in the shadows of the mind. I keep my mind blank, throwing a white sheet over my demons. The monsters can't get you as long as you are under the covers. I can see their outlines in my minds eye, but I try not to aim my thoughts in that direction. Most of my days are spent staring at a white wall and trying to think of something beautiful.

Well, that isn't entirely accurate. The walls in my cell are grayish and I'm forced to participate in a number of things that I find no joy in. Those include group therapy, private therapy sessions, meal times, and the odd hour that they decide to stick most of us together in a large room with a TV and ping pong table. An orderly comes into my room to get me for breakfast. I have been awake for hours, having only got a dew hours sleep. After the first two weeks they determined that I'm not a suicidal risk anymore.

I wear pink pajamas everywhere. Pink because that's all they had left in something around my size. The pants are too big for me even with the draw string tied so I always have to pull them up. As I'm led to the cafeteria I look through my long black bangs for any sign of _her._They know to keep us separated so I haven't had so much of a glimpse of _her_. I'm given a tray with what they try to pass off as food and a little cup of pills that has my name on it.

C. Tucker. I don't feel like C. Tucker anymore. All they have to drink is lukewarm tap water. I use it now to wash down the multicolored pills. If you asked I couldn't tell you what the medication is called or even what its for. Breakfast is oatmeal and things that look like they are supposed to be orange slices. I set my tray on the table and sit down to eat.

After the first week I stopped throwing the food back up. Naturally they thought I was doing it on purpose so anorexic has been added to my record. Once I got a look at my file. Words like suicidal, heroin user, arsonist, depressed, and homosexual were thrown around a lot. I'm not sure if they knew I was the one who lit Tweek's house on fire. Most likely they are referring to my dad setting my room on fire.

I don't get visitors. Mom and dad have been informed of where I am but they haven't come to see me. The doctors said that I can't have friends – who have been trying to visit me – or other outside influences for a time. They are quite fond of that vague phrase _for a time_. Its a bullshit phrase when they don't know how long something is going to take but don't want to give their patients "false hope". _Better to give them no hope then false hope._

I haven't seen or heard anything from _him _either. I'm not sure if he just doesn't want to see me or if I'm on too much medication to see him. Or maybe my mind trick of throwing the sheet on him is working. _Dangerous territory. _Quietly I start humming a song that has nothing to do with...it.

Breakfast lasts half an hour. Half an hour of listening to the insanity around me being screamed and whispered. Sweet relief is the quiet of my cell. I lay my head on my flat pillow and stare at the wall. I've been here for three weeks according to the calendar in the nurses station. Tomorrow will be four weeks; a month.

_Something beautiful. _At this point not even my beloved pets Stripe, Stripe II, and Daisy May are looking very beautiful. I guess most people would say something like sunshine or the grass beneath their feet but I'm not yet to the point where I miss the wind in my hair. There isn't anything I miss on the outside. Some part of me knows that this should bother me but I can't quite reach that part. Its like there is a mirror and no matter how hard I try I can't bring the reflection to my side. _God I hate this philosophical bullshit._

Another orderly comes to collect me for my private therapy session with Dr. Puos. His name is soup spelled backwards so behind his back everyone calls him Dr. Soup. There are a lot of nicknames here. His office is yellow and white. "Mr. Tucker, how kind of you to join me this fine morning." As if I have a choice or know what kind of morning it is outside the building.

"How are you feeling today?" The questions start immediately.

I sit in the chair opposite him. "Fine."

He scribbles something down on a paper in front of him. It reminds me of Dr. Tristan. All doctors seem to be good for is asking random questions and scribbling. "Did you enjoy breakfast?"

"Not particularly." I categorize the yellows on the wall behind him from darkest to lightest. Obviously black is the darkest. I have little trouble with the order of dark to light, but I do reorder things after some further consideration.

Another note, this one accompanied with a slight smile. No one likes the food here. "What didn't you like about it, Mr. Tucker?"

"I don't like oranges." In truth I have no problem with oranges. I just have to say something that seems normal.

"I see." He takes off his glasses and folds them before setting them on his desk. "Listen Mr. Tucker, you are obviously very troubled but the fact of the matter is, we can't do anything unless you let us help you." I don't reply. "You may go for today." Without a word I get to my feet and exit the office.

Standing outside is the counselor who is going to take me to Group. Dr. Soup asks me different questions every day. Apparently he doesn't like my answers. In a mental hospital you can learn anything as long as you are quiet enough to listen. As we pass a hallway I hear, "Bringing in a big shipment of kids from Denver."

South Park isn't a big town, not like Denver is a big city. A lot of the people here are shipped in from overcrowded mental institutions. Only around 67 of us are actually locals. She goes into a white room with me and sits down in one of the plastic chairs arranged in a circle. I sit down at the place the six would be if this was a clock. Group only has five others besides me.

Some clock. The other five in my Group come in. They are mostly girls; there is only one other boy. The girls have problems ranging from suicide attempts to anorexia to schizophrenia. The boy hasn't spoken in ten years and has been here half as long. I don't know their names still and I don't care to.

The talk is all girl talk. I learn way too much about their menstrual cycles and other female body issues. They talk about how their boyfriends cheated on them, what assholes they are, and what they want to do to get revenge. The woman – if you can even call her that since she's so young – tells them that line of thought is what got them here in the first place. So they move on to the skanks their boyfriends cheated on them with; was my best friend, found her off the internet, fat whore. One of them mentions they should become lesbians and every one of the agrees.

That is how the Group is spent. The mute boy and I don't say a word but we get plenty of glares. I can't imagine dating a girl and I would never cheat on anyone. Ever. I'm the only one in our group who needs an escort to go anywhere. They say that as long as I show improvement I will eventually be able to walk myself to the places I have to go.

After a half hour in my cell I'm taken to lunch. The hotdogs are green and pink striped. I have to force myself to eat it. Everyone has trouble with the food, even if they have been here for years. I can only manage to get one down. Then I spend the rest of our lunch hour with my head on the table trying not to throw it back up.

For another half hour I lay on my bed in my cell. My bed smells like dust even though I've been sleeping on it. I retreat to the white room in my mind. From the corner of my eye I see the sheet flutter but I turn my face away. Leaning against the wall in the corner, I bury my face in my hands. With all my being, I try to bury myself deeper.

Mentally I picture myself sinking deeper and deeper into the earth, to my coffin. I'm already two feet beneath the soil. Its wet and there are worms on my face. Beneath me the ground shifts so that I'm another foot underground. I don't have to breathe because I'm already dead... Slowly I push myself deeper.

I've never reached my coffin before. When I finally sink into it the wetness and worms are gone. There are six layers above me, pressing down on me. In the dark I lay flat on my back, looking up at the soil above me. There is no sound, no light, no memories to trouble me. For the first time ever I'm at peace; and I smile.

"Craig, wake up, baby."

I open my eyes. Through the six feet of dirt I see a pale hand reaching for me. "You weren't supposed to be able to reach me here." I remember leaving him seven floors above hidden under a white sheet in a white room. The coffin was supposed to be sanctuary. I feel like I'm being torn in half.

"I can reach you anywhere." I don't know where his voice is coming from. All I see is his hand. "Its time to wake up sweetheart." He's never called me sweetheart before. Suspicion that this person I'm talking to isn't him, twists around inside of me.

His voice turns impatient. "Craig, if you don't wake up you will die."

That's what I want. To not hurt anymore. "Good." I don't have a reason to leave my comfortable coffin.

"You are so stubborn." His voice is affectionate. "You do have a reason, you just don't know it yet." Sounds like he's spouting off the same bullshit everyone else does. "You've already met the person you are going to spend the rest of your life with. He's out there waiting for you. Trust me."

I run through all of the people I ever remember seeing. No one stands out as someone I would spend the rest of my life with. But I do trust him. That is, until I realize something. "Your stutter is gone."

He laughs. "Craig, this is how you normally hear me. You tune out all of the extra noise." I think about that for a moment. He's right. I'm so used to it that it just stopped registering.

"Its time to wake up." Only for a moment I hesitate. Then I grasp his hand. I expect to be pulled up through my rooms but the moment I touch his hand I'm thrown into consciousness. I'm sitting up, surrounded by people. The light is so bright, the air is so warm it feels like I'm suffocating.

They bombard me with questions. I can't understand what they are saying. People are everywhere. I don't recognize any of them. "I can't breathe." Someone tries to shove an oxygen mask to my face but I push it away.

"Outside. I need to go outside." They pick me up, put me in a wheel chair. I'm taken outside. The cold air is like hitting the reset button. Before they know whats happening, I get to my feet and take off at a run.

I don't bother with the road; I head straight into the forest. My feet are bare and I'm only wearing thin pajamas but I don't mind the cold. This is the first breath of fresh air I've had in a month. This is the first time I've actually enjoyed it. I run until I come to town. Its only when I step out onto main street that I realize I'm wearing pink.

I pass the smoke shop, considering getting a pack of cigarettes. I just keep walking, not in the mood for a cancer stick. It seems that I've lost my taste for them. At first I don't have a destination in mind. I just kind of wander around like a lost kid in the grocery store until I come to a construction site. It probably wasn't there when I went into the loony bin.

It dawns on me that I don't know anything that has been going on in town. I don't even know if my sister is okay. Ruby. "Where is she." I mutter out loud. One of the construction workers with dirt smeared on his face waves at me.

I ignore him. A long time ago I stopped carrying my phone around so I can only assume its...somewhere. I don't know what day it is or what time it is so I have no idea if school is in. So I go to the McCormick's house. By the time I get there I can't feel my feet. I sidestep the front door and knock on Kenny's window.

Kenny jumps up from his mattress like a cat that had water splashed on it. He sees me then hurries to open up the window. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I climb in, sit down on his mattress. "Did you escape? Because I know they sure as fuck didn't let you out."

"My feet are cold." I inform him. Kenny stares at me like I've grown another head. With a sigh I start rubbing life back into my feet. "Tweek brought me back from...somewhere. They took me outside and I ran into the woods."

The blond looks out his window then comes back. He kneels in front of me and rubs my other foot. I drop my left foot onto the threadbare carpet and lean back on my elbows. Kenny allows a few minutes of silence before asking, "Why the fuck did you come here?" My feet are starting to ache.

"I'm looking for Ruby." I reply. With eyes interested in finding someone new, I observe Kenny. He is attractive and selfless. He's easily the smartest person I know when it comes to people and the goings on around town. Still, I can't imagine falling in love with him.

We're just starting to be friends. And I'm not sure if I could be with someone who has fucked my boyfriend. So I mentally cross Kenny off my list. "She isn't here. School and all." I consider going to see her.

"She doesn't come by here often. She and Karen had a falling out." I frown, wondering what happened. "Before you ask, I have no fucking clue what happened. Neither of them are talking to me and there isn't any gossip going around." I let myself fall onto my back.

The ceiling has water stains. "I don't know what to do, Kenny." Kenny hums in the back of his throat. It seems he doesn't have any advise for me. Even if the girls aren't together anymore I still have to know, "Is Ruby okay?"

"She's been staying here up until three days ago." Kenny informs me. "She was fine while she was here." He lays on his stomach beside me, propping up his head on his hands. My stomach growls loudly. "Lets get some food into you."

He gives me a hand up. We pad into the kitchen. It always astounds me how filthy this place is. I don't know why since both his parents are meth heads and his older brother is an alcoholic. The blond opens a cupboard and takes out a box of pop-tarts. There is one silver package left.

Kenny opens it and lets me pick which one I want. We eat them without toasting them first. Its dry and sweet in my mouth. "They are probably looking for you." He examines two cups on the counter then fills them with tap water. I accept the one he offers to me .

"I know." I reply after taking a drink. "I'm not going back there." We lean against the counter eating in silence. Ruby is in school. "Why aren't you in school?"

Kenny shrugs. "I was suspended for kicking fatass in the balls. I'll go back Monday." _Well if you have to get suspended it may as well be for a good reason. _I don't ask but he volunteers more information,"He was bullying Butters again."

I jump to the conclusion that anyone else would. "Are you and Butters together?" Thinking of Butters makes me think of Tweek. I shut down that train of thought. I'm not angry about it, but Tweek is what landed me in the loony bin. I take another drink so that I don't have to look at Kenny.

"No." Kenny jerks his head in the direction of his room. We peel ourselves off the counter. "He wants to be though." The blond shrugs his shoulder. I shut the door behind me and flop down on his mattress.

I know what love looks like. I was in it. I am in it. "Just him?" I question. "So why don't you?"

Kenny smiles. Its a strange smile. "Think of who I am. I couldn't date Professor Chaos." He lays on his stomach beside me. I hear his quiet sigh.

"Still playing super hero, eh?" The thought makes me roll my eyes. I never got into the whole super hero thing. I would rather parade around like a faggot. Kenny gives me a deathly serious look.

"Someone has to." There's something in his eyes that I really don't like. Its his demons. Then Kenny laughs and his demons are hidden. Its like me throwing a sheet over Tweek. "Are you going to go back to Token's place?"

"Eventually." In the quiet I fall asleep. For the first time in a long time I don't dream. When I wake up its to a whispered conversation. Sounds like Karen is home. I think they are in the room so I pretend to be asleep still.

"What is he doing here? I thought they locked him up, Kenny." I feel eyes burning holes into me.

"Shh, Karen-Bear. They did lock him up but he escaped."

"Does Ruby know?" The way she says Ruby makes me want to frown. Years of practice pays off and I keep my face neutral.

"No. He came here looking for her." There is a pause. "Don't give me that face, you know Craig loves her."

Karen sighs. "Why is he wearing pink pajamas?"

Now Kenny sighs. "I guess that's what they wear there." Footsteps. "Now go do your homework. One of us has to get out of this Hellhole and make something of herself." Karen leaves grumbling.

I hear Kenny's door shut. "Why don't you make something of yourself." I prop myself up on my elbows.

Kenny doesn't reply, just shakes his head. He sits on the edge of his bed looking tired of breathing.

Now that I know Ruby is out of school, I'm itching to find her. We really need to talk. "Thanks, dude. I gotta get out of here though." Five minutes later I'm on my way through town with stiff shoes and a patchy jacket. I check by the houses I know Ruby's friends live but no one has seen her.

I'm saving our house for last. Every cell in my being hopes that she isn't staying at home. I try not to imagine the bruises on her young skin. My anger is hard to hold in check. I'm almost to one of her friend's houses when I veer in a different direction. I just have to make sure.

The sight of my house brings a twist of dread in my gut. Immediately I notice that they rebuilt my room. There is still a line of soot around the edges. The front door is locked. Pressing my ear to it, I hear a familiar _thawck_. I don't have a key but I don't need one; I break in through the kitchen window.

They freeze and stare at me like I'm a ghost. My eyes are locked on Ruby, on the bruise forming on her cheek. Dad advances, hands curled into fists, eyes full of hatred. Somehow when you've lost your mind things that seemed scary aren't anymore. Rage fills me and the next thing I know I've launched myself at him. He isn't expecting it so I get in a few punches before he starts hitting back.

Its been a long time since I've been in a fight. My last one didn't go so well. But I'm so pissed off that I'm doing better than I think I should be. I know how to fight dirty. My knee collides with his crotch. Dad goes down like a rock, clutching himself.

I kick him in the face, sending him sprawling backwards. Then I'm sitting on his chest, punching his face over and over. Blood specks my face and the borrowed jacket. My knuckles split open. Over the roar of blood in my ears I hear screaming. I'm yelling at the man who spawned me, accenting every word with a punch to the face.

Dad's face is a bloody mess. All I see is red. It takes five cops to pull me off my dad. I remember seeing a glimpse of Ruby, the bruise on her face black, her eyes cold as she watches me kill our father. I remember mom, her makeup smeared and hair a mess; the crocodile tears as she wails beside her husband. Then the nurses show up and I'm put to sleep.

I wake up in a gray padded room. My arms are asleep but I can't move them. I must have been drooling in my sleep because the side of my face is wet. Whatever they gave me to knock me out has my head aching. Suddenly I'm aware of the trembling of my limbs. I didn't think I would end up back here; certainly not in solitary. I just wanted to talk to my sister.

The next few days I spend asleep more than I do awake. Being awake is being in agony. My demons leave me alone only when I'm buried in the recesses of my mind. The only time they let me out of the room is to walk across the hall to piss once a day. I stay conscious long enough for them to shove a new assortment of pills down my throat then I'm out again. Day and night have no meaning; I can't tell the difference in this windowless cell anyway.

One time it gets to the point where I just can't sleep anymore. I lay awake in the corner of the cell staring at a wall that looks just like all the other ones. The urge to move is upon me. Worming my way to my feet is difficult. _How long have I had the straightjacket on? _I don't know anything except that I want to feel fresh air.

Standing takes more energy than I have. I slide down against the wall, lean against the connecting wall.

A nurse walks in with my medicine. She seems surprised that I'm awake. _How did they wake me up all those other times? _"Good evening Mr. Tucker." Her hair is a very pale lime green, almost white. "Its nice to see you conscious for once." Pills in one hand, water in another, she approaches me.

I take my pills obediently. There isn't a point in fighting it. One way or another they will get the desired medications into me.

"You certainly gave everyone quite the scare there when you took off." She pats my head. I'm sure my hair must be greasy and disgusting by now. I look up into her eyes, begging for any sort of information on whats going to happen to me. "The doctor will be coming in shortly, honey."

So I'm a honey again. My gaze drops to my lap. Slowly I nod. Some abstract need builds inside me – I think its homesickness but I don't have a home – threatening to make me break.

The nurse leaves and almost instantly the doctor comes in. Dr. Soup. "Well, Mr. Tucker, you have certainly made a mess of things." His voice is grating. Its strange seeing Dr. Soup outside of his office. "You are a flight risk now and an endangerment to the public."

I manage to work up an eye roll at that last one. I'm no more an endangerment to the public than a stray cat. Stubbornly I remain silent because I don't want Ruby to go to a foster home. The fact that I'm paying for the child abuse my dad inflicts on us is not lost on me. One day that asshole will get whats coming to him.

"We spoke to some people around town. They said that you went to the McCormick house." Dr. Soup glances at something on his clipboard. "Is Kenny McCormick your friend?"

Kenny is one of those people who is friends with everyone because he is chill and doesn't judge. In my case, we had the same boyfriend. Kenny only got involved with me because of Tweek; he wanted to make sure that I was treating the blond right. Now he's keeping me alive because if I die it will break Tweek's heart. I don't know if we are friends. Kenny is just doing what he feels obligated to do for our ex boyfriend.

_Ex boyfriend. Tweek is my ex boyfriend. But his heart will break if I die. _The revelations shake me. For a moment I reflect on everything that has happened since Tweek died. Tweek and Kenny want me alive.

I've been shitty to them both. "Yes." My throat hurts. The word feels foreign on my tongue. Its apparent I need to speak more often. There is no one to talk to in solitary.

Dr. Soup writes something down. "Why is it you went to his house instead of home?"

"I wanted to find Ruby." I answer honestly. There is an itch on the back of my neck. With difficulty I ignore it.

"Ruby is your sister." It doesn't sound like a question so I don't respond. "Why would you expect to find her there instead of at home?"

No answer I give will be received with positivity. Its South Park but people are still not completely for those of the homosexual community, large as it is here. Besides, apparently Ruby and Karen have split up. I also refuse to say anything about our father. "She and Karen are friends."

He asks the obvious question next, "Why did you want to find her?"

"I want to talk to her." Now a spot on my head itches. I wish I could scratch it.

Dr. Soup glances up from his note-taking. "I'm sure your parents would bring her to visit you." I stare at him, disbelieving that he could be so stupid. He seems to realize his mistake. "They probably want to speak to you too."

I've been here three weeks and they didn't visit. Not even a phone call or a letter. After smashing my father's face in with my fists, they definitely won't come to visit. Not that its them I want to see.

My silence prompts Dr. Soup to continue. "Your father is doing well, by the way."

_That's too bad. _There isn't even an urge to say the words out loud. I think I might be frowning though. The muscles in my face haven't been used much. No need to make facial expressions when you are asleep in isolation.

Dr. Soup asks me a few more questions:

Are you sure you weren't going to the McCormick's house for drugs?

Why did you attack your father?

Have you been hearing voices?

He lets me know whats going to happen to me:

We can't let you mingle with the others for a few more weeks.

I think we're going to change your medication.

I'll come back in a few days for another chat.

When the door slams shut behind the doctor, I'm left feeling exposed. He got too much out of me. I don't think its damning but how do I even know? This is a place of deceit. I feel like there is something I need do be doing but I don't remember. Dragging up memories is difficult.

Things get distorted. I can create scenes in my head that feel like memories. You may go into the loony bin sane but you will come out with an array of problems you never had before. _How would you get out of here, Tweek?_

Tweek doesn't answer but I know the answer.

He wouldn't.


	9. Release

They treat me like a fish that needs to be acclimated to its new environment.

I've been here for six months now. They let me out of solitary two weeks after my capture. My medication makes my brain foggy. When it wears off I'm struck with brilliant clarity. Its like coming out of a movie theatre into the mid-afternoon sunlight. Blinding, painful; it makes one want to slither back into the sanctuary of darkness.

They say that I'm improving. I'm on a cocktail of medications, being monitored constantly. One of the girls is a spy for the staff. They call her Snitch. Everyone is careful not to let her know whats going on. Now that I've gotten out they think I'm a celebrity.

I'm the boy who escaped. The girls in my Group therapy always point out that I may have escaped but they caught me. There is a rumor going around that I'm insane and unstable. Its not much of a rumor in this place of madness. For the most part nothing has changed since before my flight. Except they think I'm getting better. I couldn't tell you if they are right or not.

I don't feel any different. "What are you thinking about, Cat?" That's what they call me now, when they aren't calling me honey. One security guard calls me Honey Cat but I find it kind of creepy because he always looks at me like I'm a piece of meat. I'm drawn from my thoughts of this world into the real version of it.

"I'm getting better." Normally such a statement wouldn't be accepted. They like to keep things vague here but the woman is nodding. Its been seven months and I still don't remember what this woman's name is. If you asked me to describe her face I wouldn't be able to if I wasn't looking directly at her. "I think I'm going to be released soon."

Whether or not they realize that I never actually use the word _home_ or not is up for debate. I pick a piece of dark lint off my pink pajama leg. "Well I'm glad that you are feeling so optimistic. Maybe if others are optimistic like Cat here, they would be getting to go home soon too." Like I said, its up for debate.

Her eyes settle on the mute boy. I haven't heard him make a noise. Not a sound – ever – even when he's getting the shit kicked out of him. "Would you like to contribute to group?" She doesn't say his name or his nickname. No one ever does. I don't know who he is.

His green eyes meet mine from across the room. Suddenly I'm overcome with the urge to shove him against the wall and take him right in front of everyone. The boy shifts in his seat, tears his eyes away from me, and slowly shakes his head. I don't think I've been rejected but - _Wait, what?_

I shake my head to clear it. It doesn't work. _If we get caught – No. I haven't fucked anyone since Tweek. _Thinking his name no longer makes me want to curl up and die.

For the rest of the meeting I'm fidgeting. From the corner of my eye I see him fidgeting too. Who knew I would find someone in this shitty place. We are the first two out of the room when we are released from Group. Because he's been here longer I follow him. As I do, I try to figure out his name.

We are named for various things. I'm called Cat because those are my initials. Craig Anthony Tucker, and yes I'm aware its a terrible name. Snitch is Snitch for obvious reasons. The fat guy I see at lunch is called Piggy not just because he's round but because he wears glasses and has asthma; like Piggy from Lord of the Flies. The girls in Group are named after colors or their conditions.

The boy leads me through corridors I've never been down. He doesn't hesitate at nursing stations, just unlocks doors and continues onward. We sneak, but we're never caught and we don't slow down. Its amazing. It occurs to me that this boy could be the person I'm supposed to be with. It makes my heart race even faster.

He leads me to part of the building that is under construction. I never noticed because I never had a reason to come this way. He grabs my hand, leads me deeper into the maze of plastic tarp. The scent tells me this wing of the hospital was on fire at one point. Overhead thunder booms. Glancing up, it takes me only a moment to realize that we are going to get soaked; there is no roof.

We stop beneath a part of the old roof that is still intact. Just in time – the rain comes pouring down. The temperature drops by at least five degrees. I'm beginning to wonder if this was a good idea when he smiles at me. His entire face lights up with that smile. We reach for each other at the same time, lips bruising together.

I pull him close, feel the heat radiating off his firm body. Its been too long since I was last with another person. Too long since I felt smooth skin against my palms. Too long since a tongue lapped at my throat. Far too long. We pull off clothes, lay them out so his bare skin isn't against rough plywood, and indulge.

His body speaks volumes but he doesn't utter a sound. Not a moan, not a sigh, nothing. But I can tell he's enjoying this; his expression, the way his hips buck against me, his full-body shivers. I pull him up so we're kneeling, still connected, faces buried in shoulders. My fingertips run down his back and my heart gives a painful twist; it throws off my rhythm. He notices, then pushes me onto my back. He rides me, touches skin, draws me back into him.

I stroke his throbbing member in time to the thrusts. When I look at him someone else flashes before my vision. All of a sudden the tension breaks. That didn't last long but he doesn't seem to care too much. I prop myself up on my elbows to watch as he takes over and finishes himself off. The boy flashes me another smile that reminds me of someone but I can't think who. My back aches but I'm actually, well, happy.

Its been a long time since I could say that, let alone mean it. He hands me my clothes, which I gratefully slip into. Just because I forgot about the rain doesn't mean it stopped; and now that I'm not moving its colder than I care for. For the first time since arriving here I ask a personal question, "Whats your name?"

In response, the boy with green eyes holds up seven fingers. "Seven?" I frown, wondering what that means. He doesn't have his shirt on yet so when he turns around I'm faced with what I felt; scars. Six raised off-colored welts that look like something I've seen in a history book on the back of slaves during the Civil War. _At least no one rubbed tar into his wounds._

I make no move to touch them again. "There are only six." He pulls his shirt over his head before pointing to his throat. I didn't notice the most obvious scar of them all; a thin line across his throat. I don't know what to say or if its okay to ask what happened so I don't say anything.

Seven pulls some plastic off the wall and holds it over his head. I do the same. We've only been gone for about fifteen minutes but that's a long time when someone is constantly watching you. We make it back dry and unnoticed; Violet and Snitch are having a cat fight in the cafeteria. I can hear them from the hallway, recognizing their distinctive and annoying voices. A smile is thrown my way then Seven slinks off to somewhere else.

That night I'm tossing and turning restlessly. I'm fighting with something I didn't expect to feel; guilt. Guilt because am I supposed to be getting over Tweek so soon? Guilt because I don't know what Seven and I have or if he's expecting more of me than I can provide.

Despite not sleeping well I am the first one to Group. My hands are shaking. I tuck them under my armpits to stop the trembling but my legs just start up instead. "Your here awfully early, Cat." The woman tells me when she walks in to see I'm already sitting in my usual spot. I shrug.

One by one the other members of Group walk in. I'm only slightly surprised to see Piggy here. Seven is the last to enter. He doesn't look at me as he takes his seat. Our clock is looking more like a clock with the addition of Piggy.

I don't like today's topic. Piggy brings up how they are legalizing homosexual marriage. Piggy is what they inaccurately call a homophobe but should really be called an asshole. The entire Group is spent with the woman trying to get Group under control while Piggy spews out hate. The only interesting thing is that Rose – one of the girl who sliced her wrists and bears the scars – admits to finding gay sex hot.

I can agree with her on that matter. However, I really want to punch that narrow-minded piece of shit in his fat face. But I don't because I want to get out of here as soon as possible. My stocking foot taps against the linoleum so they won't see my hands shake. I try my best to keep my face impassive but its more difficult.

To distract myself I let my mind wander. What if Seven and I started fucking right here in front of this dumbass? That would throw him through a loop for about a minute until he decides he wants to try and beat the shit out of us.

Once again Seven and I are the first ones out of Group. His hand brushes mine and there is a piece of paper tucked against my palm. I watch him walk away without looking back. Then I go to my room for some privacy. The note is small and written with what I assume is a very sharp green crayon. They must think he's suicidal too because that's all I'm allowed to write with.

_I'll trade a story for a story._

The next time I see him in the hallway I pass the note back. I didn't write a story. Going first isn't really my thing. Neither is sharing depressing stories about my past.

In the bathroom he hands me a slightly bigger piece of paper. This one was written with red crayon.

_Get rid of this when you are finished reading it._

Well, okay. I can do that.

_My parents were both abusive. My dad was the grandson of a Confederate and collected Civil War memorabilia. He used to just beat me. One day mom tied me to a tree and dad whipped me._

Belts I've been hit with and let me tell you something, they hurt. They hurt more than you think they would. I can't even imagine the sharp bite of a whip. I swallow down the lump in my throat. As I think of what to write back I finger the edge of the paper. Finally I pick up a blue crayon.

_My dad is abusive. It used to be just towards me but now that I'm not there to protect her, he hurts my little sister. My mom pretends like it doesn't happen._

At dinner I give him my story. Seven tucks it into a sock without reading it. For a second I feel panic at the thought of it getting lost but there is nothing to say that its me who is writing this. We didn't put our names on it or anything.

When I walk into Group I'm not surprised to see Seven there already. We are both early. He hands me his paper and goes to walk away. Instead of letting him, I grab his arm and kiss his cheek. I couldn't tell you why. Seven just smiles at me, a kind of smile like he knows, before sitting down in his chair opposite me. Just in time too, because the woman walks in with Violet on her heels.

_After he whipped me I couldn't take the abuse anymore. While they were sleeping I went into their room and beat them to death with an aluminum baseball bat that I borrowed from my cousin._

I imagine myself going into my parents bedroom in the dead of night and beating them until they stop moving and stop making noise. The thing is, I can imagine it clearly. Even my slut of a mother I would kill. The feeling of the bat in my hands, smacking against their flesh, breaking their bones, is so real that I look down to make sure its not actually happening. A chill washes over me.

The crayon I chose is red.

_I used to fight my dad but he's bigger and stronger than me. Sometimes he would beat me unconscious. He lit my room on fire and killed my Guinea Pig then told everyone that I'm a heroin junkie._

I try not to think of my short-lived high. My hands shake as I continue writing.

_When I escaped I was looking for my sister. She was at home and he had just hit her. Her face was already bruising. I didn't even think, I just went in and started hitting him. If the cops hadn't pulled me off him I would have killed him._

For a moment I stare at the words on the page. I would have killed him. My heart hardens at the mental picture of Ruby with her bruised tear-streaked face. I should have killed him. Another hard shiver jerks my body.

On my way to see Dr. Soup I pass by Seven, slip him the note. His green eyes look dulled somehow. They must have changed his medication.

Dr. Soup's office is as yellow as ever. I sit in my usual spot and automatically start categorizing colors. "How are you doing, Mr. Tucker?"

"I'm getting bored." I inform him, realizing only after I say it that its true. The life of a mental patient isn't all that exciting. Passing notes to Seven is the most not-rule-breaking excitement I've had in a while. It doesn't bother me when Dr. Soup makes a note on his clipboard. At this point I'm half convinced he's just doing a crossword puzzle.

"Is that so? I'll speak to the Board and see if they have any ideas." He promises me. Its an empty promise. "Your mother is scheduled to see you on Thursday."

I have to actively keep my lips from curling back in a snarl. Because I can't think of one safe thing to say, I say nothing. My trembling hands go back under my arms. Its a lame trick that Dr. Soup already knows is to prevent shaking hands but I can't think of anything else to do. Seven months in this hell and my mother decides to visit out of the blue? _Fuck her. _I wish millions of evil things on her.

More words are filled in to his crossword puzzle. If that's actually what he's doing. Maybe he's prescribing me something that will keep my temper in check for my mother's visit. "What is on your mind, Craig?"

Frantically I search for something safe. Some topic that doesn't matter. Something because something is better than silence. "I would like more crayons." Immediately I regret saying anything about crayons. For one thing, I have plenty. For another, he's going to wonder what I'm doing with the ones I have. Unless Seven is keeping my notes, I don't have an excuse for the blunt crayons. _Goddamn it._

To my surprise, Dr. Soup doesn't press the matter. At least, not in the way I expected."You just want more crayons?" I nod. "So your mother coming to visit you doesn't make you happy? Or even a little angry?"

I shake my head, lying. "I would rather see my sister." This is the truth. If I had to chose between my sister and my mother, it would be my sister every time. My eye wanders to the landscape of a wheat field. So many shades of yellow.

Dr. Soup checks his watch then sets aside his clipboard. "Your mother wants to see improvement and its a major part of being an active part of society." Society isn't what I have a problem with. Still, I have to nod agreement. He's telling me that if I behave myself I might get released earlier.

That huge group of kids from Denver still hasn't shown up. Maybe they want to get some of us out of here so that better paying patients can come in.

Seven is waiting for me outside the office. He's blinking an excessive amount; probably a side-effect of whatever medication he's on. Once I was on a pill that made me unable to uncurl my toes for more than a few seconds at a time. Needless to say, they took me off it pretty quick. Fingertips brush mine but this time they stay. Between our palms is the piece of paper with his story on it.

I glance over at him but he doesn't say anything. I'm not sure if he can't speak or if he just won't. Without holding hands we walk to the room where we are supposed to spend some time mingling. For the most part I've avoided this place. I don't want to run into _her _because I know without a doubt that if I see _her _I will kill _her_. But _she _isn't here. We play a game of ping pong against each other. He wins. We watch a soap opera episode that I don't think I could have followed if I had started the series from the beginning.

When a fight breaks out between the Screecher – a noisy old man who screeches about God at the top of his lungs – and Twig – an ex methhead from the navy with major PTSD – we vacate the room. Almost everyone else does too. No one wants to be caught in this fight.

Seven kisses my cheek before departing for his cell. In mine I sit down on my bed and read his latest story. The color is purple and his handwriting is terrible.

_I've been here for five years but I'm going to get out soon. One of my aunts is going to take me in._

I wonder what the hospital is going to be like without the mute boy sitting across from me in Group. Is that why they brought Piggy in? I'm going to go crazy. A chuckle escapes me at the thought.

There is more to the note.

_After I killed my parents I was going to kill myself. I slit my throat and was waiting to die in my room when a neighbor walked in with his dog. The dog was going crazy and the neighbor called the police. Instead of juvie, they sent me here._

That explains the scar across Seven's throat. What a way to go. Taking a deep breath, I wonder what to tell him. I didn't exactly try to kill myself that deliberately.

_I was in love with Tweek. His mother abused him in ways that made what my dad did to me look like nothing. He was amazing and made me worry constantly. If it wasn't his mom it was the drugs. My last day with him was wonderful and awful at the same time. He had inherited his mom's mental disease and he was scared of it. When he went home that night he got high first and let her kill him. She hurt him really bad and then she cut off his legs. Tweek bled out in his backyard._

After he gets my story it takes less than an hour for Seven to give me a response.

_I know about Tweek. Everyone does. His mom was transferred from here to an isolation hospital where she's going to live out the rest of her days. I know it doesn't make you feel better, but its all I can tell you._

Of course he knows about Tweek. Like he said, everyone does. That's how I go from a Mr. Tucker to a honey within a matter of seconds. Depression rears its ugly head and I lay mine on my knees. Tweek is gone forever. He isn't even coming to me in hallucinations.

For two days I don't respond. As with all the others, I flush this note down the toilet one little piece at a time. Seven doesn't pressure me to write him a note back. We go back to ignoring each other.

Thursday rolls around. Its visiting day. Hardly anyone actually likes to get visits. We have our own little world here where everything is familiar and comfortable. I'm especially not looking forward to today. On my way to see my mother, I drag my feet. From the door I can see that she didn't bring Ruby.

I almost turn around and go back to my room but the desire to leave this place keeps my feet moving forward. Mom isn't looking very good. She's older than I remember. Her hair is gray and she has more defined wrinkles. Her clothes look like she's slept in them. When she sees me she stares.

All around I feel invisible eyes on me. The visitor's center is monitored by cameras. I'm sure someone is zoomed in on us, waiting for a heartfelt reunion that won't happen. Mom doesn't volunteer any information and I don't offer any. We sit in silence for a half an hour until she can't stand it and leaves. _Nice visit._

A part of me wishes that she had hugged me and told me how much she loves me. Part of me wishes that she had told me about Ruby and how well she's doing. Or told me that she's sorry for the years of abuse I've suffered and that my sister is suffering. I guess that deep down inside I still hope that mommy loves me.

I run into Seven on the way back to my room. Literally run into him. His green eyes are clear, his expression concerned as he lifts my chin so that I'm looking him in the eye. Seven wraps his arms around me. A few tears slide down my cheeks and all I can think is how fucking stupid it is that I'm crying about this. His embrace tells me all I need to know; I've made a new friend who will be there for me.

That night I sleep deeply. Its because of the anti-depressant they gave me. By I recognize its shape and color. So they were watching.

The next day at Group the woman tells us that Seven has been released. There are murmurs around the clock which isn't really looking like a clock anymore. I decide to work hard to get out of here. If a boy who killed his parents and hasn't spoken in ten years can be let out of an insane asylum, so can I.

Its more difficult than I thought it would be. Dr. Soup knows when someone is telling him what we think he wants to hear. Sometimes I almost break down and tell him the truth. But something always has me holding my tongue. After Seven I don't make any more friends. Mom doesn't visit again. I'm still not sure what the point of her last visit was. No one tells me anything.

Four months later and I'm released. It was partially due to the shipment of Denver kids and partially because I'm finally eighteen. Its hard to believe I spent eleven months in there, yet so easy.

My room at Token's is waiting for me and so is Daisy May. At first everyone tiptoes around me and I'm reminded of being a fish. Being outside is strange. I can go anywhere I want without having to tell anyone about it. I can feel the air in my hair and the grass beneath my feet and the sun on my face. Its amazing. I guess I missed this more than I thought.

I don't try to look for Seven. Partially because I don't know what his real name is and partially because I figure if he wants to talk to me he will. After all, everyone knows about Craig and Tweek.

Slowly I wean myself off my medication. When I stop taking it I feel much better. More alive. There wasn't anything actually wrong with me to begin with. Well, except all those things.

I'm in my room stroking the soft fur of my brown and white rabbit when someone comes into my room. The sounds are so different from in the loony bin that I pick them up much easier. The fact that its quiet also helps. "Hey dude."

"Hey Token." I respond automatically. There is a huge rift between us. He can't possibly understand what I've been through and I feel much older because of it.

Token sits on my bed. The sheets were changed when I got here. I don't recognize them. "How are you doing?"

"Fine." It sounds like bullshit but its not. From the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of myself and run my fingers through messy black hair. I'm way too pale. "What's up?"

"Your sister is here." I'm out the door in a second, nearly knocking Token over. Ruby is standing in the hallway looking anxious as I've ever seen her. Her jeans are torn about mid-thigh and judging by the way her hair is hanging in front of her eye, I'm guessing she has another bruise to hide.

"Hey Craig." My arms are around her instantly. Ruby smells like what used to be my home and instead of homesickness it brings on a wave of nausea. "I missed you."

"I missed you too Ruby." I squeeze her tighter before releasing her. "I came to see you but...things didn't really go as planned." I drape an arm across her shoulders as I lead her to the nearest sitting room. There is a lot to talk about.

Token, my most amazing friend, gives us some privacy. At least visually; I have the feeling that he and Clyde are eavesdropping. We both look out of place in this home for rich people. Before I can ask her how she's been, Ruby demands answers from me. "I want to know what happened Craig."

"I know." The sigh I let out is more tired than I was expecting it to be. Now that I finally have a chance to talk to my sister I'm finding that I don't know what to say or where to begin. "Um, what did you want to know exactly?"

Ruby smooths her orange hair to cover her right eye. "Was dad lying about you setting your room on fire?" At least she picked an easy one. I bob my head up and down. "You aren't a heroin junkie are you?"

That escalated quickly. "Not when he accused me of being one. I've only done it once." I struggle to remember if that's actually true. I don't know for sure; drugs and grief are a bad combination for your memory.

"Why did you do it?" Her tone is accusing as she tears the hole in her jeans larger.

I tear my gaze away to look out the window. The view is startlingly clear. "I wanted to keep Tweek alive." When she doesn't reply I add, "And I wanted to die."

My sister shakes her head. I'm not surprised that she doesn't understand. I barely understand. "Were you going to kill him?"

I don't need clarification as to who she's talking about. We make eye contact and I nod once. "What was it like there?"

There are a thousand things to say about my stay in the mental hospital. Not a damn one comes to mind that she would even begin to understand. Finally I come up with, "Different." Ruby gives me a teenager look. I can't believe I missed so much of her life. For over a year I've been neglecting my duties as her big brother. "Its a lot of things, Rubes, but unless you've been there you just won't understand."

Teal eyes swim with disappointment but she doesn't press the issue. "Are you going to come home?"

To distract myself from the hope in her voice, I categorize the green landscape outside the window. Lightest to darkest just like always. "No." Our parents don't want me around and I don't want to be there either. The only reason I would consider it is to see Ruby but another visit home will probably get me sent to prison.

Even though she's nodding I can tell she's upset. I pull her into another hug. "If you need help you can call me any time, okay?" My little sister nods once before jumping up and leaving. The guys give me three minutes alone before coming in.

"So we were thinking of throwing a Craig's out of the loony bin party." Clyde plops down on the couch where my sister was. His smile is there but his brown eyes are concerned. _How long is it going to take before they treat me like I'm normal? _But I'm glad to have friends who actually care about me.

"Alright." I agree partially because I don't want to further disappoint them. The other reason is because I want to find the person Tweek promised me I would find.


	10. Work and Play

Whatever force in this world that made me think a party is a good idea...should be shot. I haven't hung around sane people in a long time – I don't count to hospital staff as sane – and I can't handle them. All the noise and the crowded bodies and the music. Its been eleven months since I last heard any music. _I'm going to die. _I stand holding onto my cup of fruit punch because everyone was given express orders not to bring anything fun to the party.

Just in case I decide to go crazy again. People say things to me and around me but I don't understand. You would think that I've been in isolation the entire time. Believe me, if they had left me there any longer I wouldn't be half as sane as I am now. My hands are shaking but I don't have to hide them. No one is going to force new medications down my throat.

They may not be friends but at least I'm not surrounded by enemies anymore. I run my hand through my hair, succeeding in making it messier. Maybe I should get a haircut. Its getting a little long, like to my nipples. I have become a wallflower. Whatever.

Bass controls my heartbeat. Token wanders over to me. "How are you doing, dude?" He sips his punch without a care in the world. I nearly spill mine all down the front of my t-shirt when I try to mimic his attitude. Now I know how Tweek felt all the time.

There must be something to this insanity thing. "Questioning the wisdom of this." I set my drink down, knowing that in a sea of identical red plastic cups its going to get lost. "I'm going outside." Token follows me without a word. We haven't had a real discussion about what is going on in my life and I'm really hoping he doesn't start now.

When we come across Dylan smoking it dawns on me that I haven't bothered to find out what is going on in the lives of my friends. I'm kind of a shitty person. "Are you two still fucking?" I jerk my chin in the direction of the red Goth.

Token sighs. "Yes. We are still together." We stop beside Dylan. The Goth offers us a cigarette each. This time I accept it.

Dylan lights the fag for me. I watch Token light up his own and raise an eyebrow. "Your smoking." Its not a question.

Token shrugs but he looks a little annoyed. "I need at least one bad habit." The mohawked teen responds. His new haircut is drastically different from his dreadlocks. The sides of his head are shaved and a long mohawk lays in a limp line down the back of his head. I'd like to see it with gel but it looks good this way too.

I take his statement to mean that he's kicked the recreational drug habit. That's fine with me. Drugs haven't done any good for me. "Long time no see, faggot." I flip Dylan the bird. Its been a long time since I've done that too. Most of the time I just don't feel like Craig Tucker.

My eyes wander the crowd, searching for someone I don't know. A boy with paint streaked across his face waves at me but I don't return the wave. He looks vaguely familiar but I can't place him. There's Kenny with Butters, trying to lure him into the shadows of the forest. Wendy has her arms around Stan, who is giving Kyle a _what can I do _expression. Christophe is leaning against a tree with his shovel slung across his back.

For a while I linger on the French teen but when he does nothing of interest I rejoin the conversation my friend and his boyfriend are having. They are discussing bedroom things that are actually beyond me.

So I'm relieved when Ruby runs up to me. She hugs me then flips me off. That's my little sister. "Hey Craig." I still haven't gotten used to people calling me by name. The young girl is wearing dark makeup that makes her look raccoonish. "Come dance with me!" Ruby tugs me back into the house, laughing.

We dance in Token's living room – the furniture has been pushed against the walls to make a dance floor – among other dancers. That brunette kid Bridon is laying down moves like nobody's business but he's doing it by himself; no one else joins him. Clyde and Kevin are doing something that looks more like Star Wars battle scene reenactments. The tall Goth and Bebe are dancing on one side of the dance floor. On the other side are Gregory and Red; she looks like she's unimpressed with whatever he is saying.

As the night wears on more people join the dance. Ruby and I get separated but I keep dancing once I see her in a slow dance with Karen. I hope they make up. Clyde joins me, saying something about Kevin being in the bathroom. We dance together until the noirette nerd comes back. For a moment I'm alone but someone comes up to me.

At first I think its Seven. "Would you dance with me?" But its not. Seven wouldn't speak. This boy doesn't have a scar across his throat. His hair and skin are lighter too.

I don't even know this person with paint streaked across his cheek and in his hair. It doesn't stop me from nodding agreement. Its just a dance. We start off a few feet apart but slowly drift closer. I'm starting to get tired from all this activity. Our fingertips brush and for some reason I'm hyper aware of it.

He's looking at me with concerned light brown eyes. "Do you want to get a drink?"

At first I think he's offering to get an alcoholic beverage then I notice he's looking at the punch bowl. "Water." I respond, leading the way towards the kitchen. I get glasses for us and pour purified water into them. Before I can take a drink, Mrs. Black comes into the kitchen.

"Oh Craig, I'm so glad to see you are drinking water." She tells me as she pours a glass for herself. I'm a little insulted that she thinks I only drink alcohol. "That punch has so much sugar in it." _Oh._

When I turn back to study that boy I was dancing with in the light, he's gone. His glass is empty on the counter. _Weird. _I don't have a lot of time to dwell on the stranger because Kyle Broflovski walks into the kitchen.

Kyle gives me a look that I can't interpret. The redheaded Jew leans against the counter silently. When Mrs. Black leaves the room he begins to speak. "You ever going to pay for that stuff you stole?"

Automatically I raise my middle finger. "What stuff." Maybe I can intimidate him into forgetting about it.

"The stuff you used to set Tweek's house on fire." Kyle hisses. He has a smug expression on his face, which just turns smugger as mine drains of blood. Intimidation is not going to work.

I sigh. "What do you want, Broflovski?"

The smugness vanishes from his freckled face. "I need someone to help me out in the store."

To give myself time to think about this, I take a drink of water. I'm already seventeen. Or was it eighteen? Anyway, I'm not going to be a teenager for much longer and I've already missed a year of high school. Having a job wouldn't be a bad thing. "You want me to work in the store?" A nod. "I'd be on payroll, right?" Another nod.

I take another drink, swish the water around in my mouth before swallowing. "What you want is me to work with you otherwise you are going to tell everyone about...incidents that may or may not have occurred." Imagining myself getting up every day at the same time working the same job and getting paid for it doesn't seem like a terrible situation. At least I would be getting paid.

"Yeah." Green eyes narrow, "Its a limited time offer, Craig." _He sounds so much like Cartman, he probably doesn't even know. _Slowly I nod agreement. "Good. You start tomorrow. Wear blue denim jeans and black shoes. Your work shirt will be provided for you."

Before I can agree to this, Kyle peels himself off the counter and leaves me alone. _Well, I guess I have a job. _I set my empty glass on the counter, knowing that it will probably be lost like the red plastic cup. _Does this kind of thing happen to regular people?_

Wandering around the edge of the dance floor, I skirt Bebe and Christophe. They are locked in deep conversation and though I only catch a fragment I decide I don't want to get involved with that. Outside, Kyle and Cartman are arguing. Their bodies are so close they are almost touching, their lips only a breath away as they growl out hurtful words. I avoid them as well.

This is so different from what I used to do. Although I never touched a drop of alcohol, there was always something to get high on. Now they act like I'm going to jump off the deep end if I get anywhere near drugs. _Maybe you will _I tell my inner voice to shut up. My hands push into my pockets but I don't have any cigarettes.

I think of the zippo with the chinpokomon sticker on the side. Tweek loved that lighter, which is why I took it. I wanted a piece of him to remember and to contemplate over. "What happened to your lighter, babe."

"If you are talking to me, I don't have one." The unexpected voice has me nearly leaping out of my skin. I whip my head to the left and there's the boy from earlier. He's sitting on a bench under the street light, watching me with a smile. As usual his face looks familiar but I can't think of where I've seen him.

"I wouldn't call you babe." The words are out of my mouth before my mind has a chance to think over whether or not I should say it. My statement doesn't seem to bother him. "And I wasn't talking to you."

He laughs. "You have no idea who I am, do you?" The complete lack of aggression is strange. I'm totally unused to it.

"Your that construction worker who waved at me." The tilt of his head tells me this isn't the answer he was looking for.

"I guess you had other things on your mind." The brunette doesn't elaborate when it was that my mind was occupied. I've had _other __things_ on my mind for a long time. Maybe its time to get back to the present. I sit on the opposite side of the bench, studying him openly.

His jacket is worn and patched; his jeans are dusty. I suspect that his scuffed steel toe boots are the only shoes he owns. For a while I study his hair. Hanging in his eyes, messy and feathery; light brown like a mouse. Streaks of green paint are on his face and in his hair.

My eyes linger on his face longer. I can't see his forehead but I'm assuming its heart-shaped. High cheekbones. A straight, button nose. Clear, light brown eyes. He's not handsome so much as beautiful. "The kid from the hospital."

The boy's smile confirms it. "Took you long enough to figure it out." His comment catches me off guard – it sounds like something Tweek would say. The boy – Daniel, I remember – isn't paying quite a bit of attention to the watch on his wrist.

I watch him for a few long seconds then shove my hands in my pockets. There is some strange feeling tugging at my heart – its not love, before anyone gets a stupid idea like that. "I had other things on my mind." I reply, not quite sure why I'm trying to justify it.

"I know, Craig." Soft, understanding voice. Daniel would make a good psychiatrist or something like that. Except it doesn't work on me because I've had more than my fair share of understanding voices. Suddenly in a rush, I get to my feet. "Where are you going?" Alarmed.

_No. _Without looking back I take longer strides. "No, no, no." My inner voice speaks up, _What are you no-ing? _It sounds far too sly for my taste. I ignore it.

As I walk I realize I have nowhere to go. Although the walls are insulated at Token's house, I don't want to try and sleep with all the people there. None of my friends and acquaintances are at their houses at the moment. I end up sitting in a booth at Denny's. The only other people in the restaurant are Ike Broflovski, the small Goth, and a hobo.

Not really hungry, but feeling like I should eat something, I order a plate of bacon and a coffee. Even with sugar and cream I don't care for the taste of coffee much but I drink it regardless. As the night drags on, I find myself drinking cup after cup of coffee and counting the ceiling tiles. It occurs to me that I should probably have brought my phone but then I remember I haven't located it yet. Hopefully no one has noticed me missing – and if they did I hope they don't care much.

The sun is rising when Clyde bursts into the diner. His brown eyes are wild, he's panting like he's run a marathon. When he spots me sitting alone, he flips me off then doubles over to catch his breath. I don't get up to greet him, feeling an uncharacteristic flush of guilt. Finally the chubby teen straightens up and trots over to me. "You asshole, Craig. What the fuck are you doing here?"

I shrug. "We've been looking for you everywhere." I'm not surprised it took so long to find me here. This isn't a place I frequent. Clyde looks at me, chocolate brown eyes accusing. "Do you even care?"

I reach over to pat him on the head. I try not to think about the stickiness in his short brown hair. "You found me. Good boy."

Before I know whats happening, Clyde has his arms around me. He's sobbing into my shirt. "We w-were so worried!" For good measure he adds, "You fuck." Awkwardly I pat his back a few times before letting my hand drop.

I know why he was worried. "Sorry." I mutter. He doesn't hear me so I repeat it louder. "Sorry. I just...wasn't in the mood for a party."

Clyde sniffs as he sits up. He pokes at a piece of cold bacon before picking it up and taking a bite. With food in his mouth, the brunette speaks, "You haven't in the mood for a party since Tweek died." Then he looks at me but my face is expressionless. I can't freak out every time I hear my dead boyfriend's name. "We worry about you, dude."

"I know." To distract myself, I take another drink of coffee. Daniel's smile flashes before my eyes. I exhale and pick at my cuticles. "You don't have to worry. I'll be okay." My eyes slide over to where Ike and the Goth boy are still sitting in their booth. "Let me borrow your phone."

For a few seconds Clyde stares at me without moving. Then he shakes his head and digs his phone out of his pocket. I scroll through until I find Kyle's number and send him a text message. "I forgot to text Token." The brunette beside me informs me. I send Token a text telling him that _I_ found Craig at the Denny's. "Who are you talking to?"

"None of your business." I snap. I wait for the tears to well up before giving Clyde a sly smile. A happy little ring tone goes off. Clyde scooches closer to me. Its Kyle.

_There is one tomorrow night. You going?_

I type out a quick reply and hit send. Ever the nosy person, my friend asks, "What's tomorrow night?" Without replying, I give Clyde his phone back. He checks the messages. "You are going to fight?"

I shrug. My coffee is gone. "I need to do something." I don't add the _destructive_ I'm thinking of. The sun is getting higher in the sky and the warmth is welcoming.

"Token will be here soon." Clyde eats another strip of cold bacon. The brunette doesn't try to talk to me anymore about me. Instead he keeps up a steady chatter about how he and Kevin are thinking of marrying twins. I'm not expected to do much more than grunt and give the occasional _oh yeah? _or _really?_

My mind doesn't wander more than to amazement at how life-giving the sun is. Today, new plants will grow. A cat will stretch out in a sunbeam. Children will race through the streets. Entire buildings will be powered by the sun. And in me, I feel hope for a good future growing.

Token's appearance cuts short Clyde's description of a party he attended two months ago. Gray and dark brown eyes meet. The mohawked teen holds up his hand. "I'm upset that you didn't bother to let us know you were leaving, but I'm glad you are okay. And I'm going to leave it at that because you are a big boy and you've heard it all before."

I can accept that. Token slides into the booth on my other side. The waitress wanders over and we order breakfast. My two best friends talk around me as we eat, discussing whatever comes into their minds. I stay out of the conversation. Then Clyde hits us with a bomb shell. "My dad's going to remarry."

We both stare at him. "When did this happen?" Token frowns. Its been years since Clyde accidentally killed his mother and Mr. Donovan hasn't seemed particularly interested in women since then.

Clyde shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth and chews thoughtfully. "Last week." He answers when he's swallowed most of it. While he's swallowing the rest I pinch his side. "Ow." Clyde swats my hand away. The guys never _used _to keep secrets from me. But from the look of things, we are all keeping secrets from each other. We need to get back in touch.

While we are confessing things I might as well give them the news. "I have a job." This time Clyde pinches me. "Hey! I just got it last night." Clyde pinches me again. I pinch him back, hard.

"You aren't a prostitute, are you?" Clyde peers at me as though he's expecting me to do something sexual. "Because even though I love you dearly, I'm not going to pay you to suck my dick." From the corner of my eye I see Token roll his eyes.

I smile. "I'll give you a discount." I wink at the brunette before turning serious. "No. I'm working at the gas station Kyle works at. He offered me a job last night." I don't mention the blackmail. Burning Tweek's house down is going to be my little secret. _So much for being honest and getting back in touch._

They bombard me with questions that I mostly answer with "I don't know." Finally, when they've wrung all the information they can out of me, I change the subject back to Clyde's possible new stepmother. After we determine that she doesn't sound too terrible, I nudge my dark-skinned friend. "So what's your big secret?"

Token crosses his arms – a defensive move. "I don't have a secret." Clyde and I scoff at that. Everyone has secrets. "I don't!" He protests.

His eyes drop and he fiddles with a gold ring on his finger. Its a plain band that I've never noticed before. I nudge my noirette friend. "Don't tell me you got married." Beside me, Clyde gasps. Token smiles.

"No. I didn't get married." He gives me a look that makes me think he's expecting quips about him dating a Goth. When none come, he moves on, "I'm moving states. To go to college."

Something about one of my best friends leaving is just, heartbreaking. I don't say anything but Clyde is blabbing on and on. My head hurts all of a sudden. I rub my temples as I try to convince myself that everything will be okay. "Craig?" _Its okay, its okay. I still have Clyde._Except what if something happens to Clyde? Tweek, Token, and Clyde gone? I don't think I can take that.

Just a few minutes ago I was feeling optimistic about life and now... "Craig?" Token's hand is on my arm. I shake my head. His dark eyes are telling me that he's wondering if he can leave me alone. "I -"

"Its okay." I cut him off. Smiling is currently off the menu, but I look Token in the eye. "Its alright. Go to college. Live your life. You don't need to worry about me."

Clyde tries to lean over me to reach our dark friend. "You have to visit us!" None of us ever expected Clyde to leave South Park; there isn't a doubt in my mind that he is staying to go to college here. I never even thought of college. Film-making suddenly seems like a huge waste of time and I haven't been doing much with it in about three years.

I kiss Token's cheek. "Yeah, you better visit us, dude." I hate to be the one to bring this up, but, "What about Dylan?"

Token twists the ring on his finger again. "He's coming with me." I'm surprised that the Red Goth is smart enough to get into the college of Token's choice. However, that would be a stupid thing to say so I keep my mouth shut.

"I miss you already." Clyde has managed to wedge himself between me and the table. I have to suck in my stomach and hope that he doesn't catch on any of my piercings. Breathing is difficult at this point.

"Clyde...can't breathe..." I gasp. Clyde scoots backwards towards his side of the booth. When I can peel myself off the back of the booth I suck in a deep breath. "Your kind of fat."

"Craig!" Token scolds me. He lightly punches me in the arm.

"What?" Clyde is teary-eyed. "I am not fat!" He punches my thigh. Pain spreads but I grin in spite of it.

"You two are so abusive." I say it as a joke because honestly they are the best friends a guy could ask for. But I chose my words wrong. They grimace at each other like I can't see. Its then that I realize we can't really joke around like we used to. They don't know how to act around me anymore. _Maybe Token leaving is a good thing._

I don't think about that long because exhaustion hits me all of a sudden. "Lets get out of here." Token pays for the food and we pile into his car. Speaking of cars, what happened to mine? The thought that I don't have a means of transportation – other than my feet – bothers me for a minute until I just shove the worry away. That car wasn't really mine anyway and since I have a job I can buy myself a new one. _Everything is alright._

In the backseat of Token's purple vehicle, I fall asleep. I get up only when the car stops and only long enough to make it to my room.

Its five the next morning when I wake up. For a few seconds I forget that Tweek is dead. Then it hits me as it does every time I wake up and I roll out of bed. My back hurts but I work the kinks out of it. Today is the first day of work. Kyle never told me what time to be there but I know the store opens at eight so I decide to go in then.

It takes five minutes to find a pair of blue jeans. Blue isn't really my color but I toss them on the bed. Kyle didn't mention anything about coming in without a shirt so I chose a black wife-beater – and yes, I despise that name – and throw that with the jeans. After picking out socks and boxers, I gather up the pile and head to the nearest bathroom.

Outside the door I stop. I've avoided this bathroom because its the one Tweek and I fucked in. _You can't avoid it forever. _Stubbornly I tell myself that _I can so _but I'm not a pussy so I step over the threshold. Despite my bravery at entering the bathroom, I make sure I don't stay long. My shower takes less than five minutes. In fact, I'm so uncomfortable here that I get dressed in the hallway. In another bathroom I find a brush and try to make my black hair look presentable.

For a few minutes I stare in the mirror. For once I'm not covered in bruises. The only thing I have to hide is the way my sanity sometimes slips. I do notice that I'm skinnier than I used to be. Its actually kind of gross the way my bones stick out. After I found out the signs it was easy to tell when Tweek was using; he would lose weight that he really didn't have to lose.

My reflection sighs at me. The sharp pain in my chest tempts me to throw a sheet back over my dead love. Except that's avoiding the problem and reality.

At the loony bin they told me that this is called reentering society. Technically I've already reentered society. This is a little different because now I'm going to be a contributing member of society.

I check the clock in the hallway; 5:47. I've been looking at myself too long. Heading down beautifully furnished hallways, I make my way to Token's bedroom. The door is closed so I knock first. It would suck walking in on him and Dylan – since I have a suspicion that the Goth teen frequently sneaks into Token's room. When Token doesn't answer I knock one more time.

Twenty-six seconds later, I push the door open. Token's room is empty. I hesitate just outside the door before closing it again. In the kitchen I find Mr. and Mrs. Black. They both look up when I enter. "You look nice, Craig." Mrs. Black tells me.

"Nice enough to go to work?" I question. I pour myself some milk because I have an aversion to orange juice.

Mr. Black is looking at me with a raised eyebrow over the morning newspaper. "What kind of job requires you to work in a tank top?" He refuses to say wife-beater; I don't blame him.

"Kyle hired me to work at the gas station. He said he's providing a work shirt for me." I explain, suddenly nervous. I've never had a job before. If I fail will the redhead tell everyone that I lit Tweek's house on fire? Chewing on my lip, I turn around to make some toast.

"It will be good for you to get out of the house and earn some money." Mrs. Black comments. She reaches over me to a shelf above our heads, not quite able to reach it. I open the cupboard for her and take down the coffee flavor she instructs me to. "Thank you, sweetie."

My toast pops. I nearly have a heart attack. "I'm sure you will do great." Mr. Black adds before getting up from the table. My heart swells with joy and at the same time it feels like a blade is going through it. Why can't my parents be supportive like the Blacks?

I eat breakfast quickly because I'm still nervous. The microwave tells me that its only 6:00. What a disappointment. Token isn't even here to talk to; and as much as I love her, I don't want to talk to Mrs. Black. After brushing my teeth I wander back to my room. Daisy May sits up when I enter.

I get her out of her home and lay with her on my bed. She sniffs curiously at the hem of my shirt. From what I can see, Token and co took good care of her while I was gone. She's obviously a happy rabbit who enjoys socializing. I stroke her softer-than-air brown and white fur, letting my thoughts drift and keeping one eye on her so she doesn't fall off.

I imagine a house with a nice yard that I can let her loose in. I doubt my little friend has experienced grass before. She would love it. Her nails dig into my chest when she hops onto it. "Hey." I whisper so I don't frighten the rabbit.

Daisy's dark brown eyes are intelligent just like Stripe's were. "Craig Tucker with a rabbit; no one would have seen that coming." No one will ever call me Cat again. That's fine. It was kind of cool having a nickname but its also cool being Craig Tucker again. Or, mostly being Craig Tucker again.

After a while I put Daisy back in her home. I look around for my wallet and find it under the bed. After slipping it into my back pocket I brush off the rabbit dust from my shirt. Since I don't have a car anymore I don't have to worry about keys...and I wouldn't know where to look anyway. As far as I'm concerned my car has dropped off the face of the earth. The alarm clock tells me its 6:59.

I use the time to try and locate my phone. The closet is the first place I check, shifting around the boxes of Tweek's stuff. I suppose I could just _call _it but I don't think the volume is on. I slide on my stomach to look under the bed. Nothing. I dig through my dresser drawers. There is is, black and shiny, hiding beneath some socks.

I find the charger behind the dresser, still plugged into the wall. It takes five minutes for my phone to charge enough to turn on. Notifications pop up on my screen. I exit out of all of them then go through my voice-mails first. No one says anything interesting; its mostly friends trying to find me. The texts are mostly the same except another one from that number I don't recognize.

_Am I a match?_

I can't make any sense of this one either so I leave it alone. I also leave the messages from Tweek alone, without looking through them. Just because I can hear his name without dying inside doesn't mean I'm ready to view our conversations.

The time stamp at the top tells me its 7:30. Time to go if I don't want to be late. I leave the phone on the charger and slip on my shoes. A few minutes later I'm out the door and on my way to my first job.

As I pass the construction site one of the workers waves at me. I hesitate a fraction of a second then wave back. Its hard to think of Angel Face as a construction-worker but people have a tendency to surprise you.

* * *

><p><strong>This is the last chapter of I'm Begging For Mercy pt 2. The next 10 chapters (pt 3) will be in Dog Poo's POV. I hope you guys will follow that story as you have through Tweek and Craig's chapters. Thank you all for the reviews and love. <strong>


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